tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82747012582904181402024-02-07T01:43:57.026-08:00BookshelfAlternatively known as Rant-box.Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.comBlogger157125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-72032243625552629582013-10-14T10:19:00.001-07:002013-10-14T10:19:38.726-07:00The Hole in my Heart<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>I had written this a few months ago and never published it. I don't know why I am publishing it now. But it felt like the right thing to do, I guess. </i><br />
<br />
"The hole in my heart is in the shape of you and no one else can fit in it." - Jeanette Winterson<br />
<br />
Dear ex-boyfriend, <br />
<br />
I don't even know how to begin this letter. I know it's been a long time since we haven't seen each other. A longer time since we loved each other. And an even longer time since we needed each other. I don't exactly know what caused this loss of love. But it is true that when you left, you created the hole in my heart in which no one and nothing else but you can fit in. The ache is less now, the memories slowly fading and receding. But the hole remains.<br />
<br />
And it is the small things that only we shared that remind me of the hole. It is like when someone pulls a coconut out of their briefcase and you are the only one in the world to understand the joke. Or like when you find the last card that had been missing from your pack, just round the corner. And every time I face a coconut moment or a two of hearts moment, I feel like maybe it was worth a shot. Maybe we gave up too soon. Maybe all those dreams could have come true. <br />
<br />
Except, of course, when Carrie thought that, she got dumped on a post-it. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2013/06/19/article-2344654-1A684BE2000005DC-540_306x423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2013/06/19/article-2344654-1A684BE2000005DC-540_306x423.jpg" width="231" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Photo Courtesy: http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2013/06/19/article-2344654-1A684BE2000005DC-540_306x423.jpg</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So, no, now that we have moved on, I won't think of coming back or of wanting you back in my life. But I do often wonder, is there a hole in your heart that no one else but I can fit in?<br />
<br />
Still often caught thinking of you, <br />
Star. <br />
<br />
<i>Anyway, am reading Jeanette Winterson again these days. And how phenomenal is she! Read her 'Written on the Body'. The metaphors she uses and the voice she adopts will blow you mind!</i></div>
Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-90036286847401826912013-08-15T23:33:00.001-07:002013-08-15T23:33:42.845-07:00Love Personified<p>If Love was a person, it wouldn't be cupid. No, sir. </p>
<p>If Love was a person, it would have little hands, little feet, a torso that fits into my palm, a head that is too small for the smallest baby cap in the market, tiny unseeing eyes and ears smaller than my little finger. </p>
<p>Being an aunt is very becoming of me, methinks. :D </p>
Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-72558308019351526532013-06-20T11:21:00.000-07:002013-06-20T23:14:11.336-07:00Title Tales<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A cousin of mine, let's call him The Grasshopper, is an avid blogger and a wanna-be writer too. And since I am an English teacher, he seems to think I have descended from the Hyperbolic Planet of Incandescent Brilliance itself. Can you see how much pressure would that kind of assumption put on the poor little me? Here I have this space, where all I do is rant about how bitchy my colleague is or how bad a film was or how I am so single and lonely or mother woes or... Umm, well, you get the drift... And then I have this cousin who associates me with elite literature, the likes of James Joyce and V. S. Naipaul. (Just for the record, I have never been able to read more than 3 pages of either's writing.)<br />
<br />
So naturally, I panicked a little bit when he wanted my suggestions to title his new, personal blog. Here are snippets from our whatsapp conversation about the blog title:<br />
<br />
<b>The Grasshopper (TG):</b> What do you think my blog should be called?<br />
<b>Star</b> (<i>Already terrified</i>):I dunno... You want it to be like a diary?<br />
<b>TG:</b> Something like that. But I want to give a humorous spin to what I write. And I will be writing about things I experience. Like growing up.<br />
<b>Star:</b> Okay... What about TGisms? Or Board Games ka Betaaj Baadshah? :P<br />
<b>TG:</b> The name will have cultural associations. I want to make the title suggest that I am writing about what I think.<br />
<b>Star</b> (<i>Totally embarassed about how materialistic ALL my ideas had been, not one featured anything to do with "thinking"</i>): Oh, I was only thinking of student life representations, like board games, internet-streamed TV, alcohol and girl problems. Not philosophical insights.<br />
<b>TG</b>: How about if we put the two together?<br />
<b>Star:</b> Like Board Games and Derrida?<br />
<b>TG:</b> Yes, that's nice. But something else.<br />
<b>Star</b> (<i>Totally blank. The only response "philosophical insights" had invoked was "Derrida"</i>): Abhi bas, abhi tu soch. I am going to go to bed.<br />
<br />
Next Morning:<br />
<br />
<b>TG:</b> I thought of The Blue Grasshopper.<br />
<b>Star</b> (<i>Shit! I thought I had gotten out of that!</i>): I am not sure I know the significance...<br />
<b>TG:</b> It's random. Totally random.<br />
<b>Star </b>(<i>breathing a sigh of relief. At least I don't come across as stupid for not knowing important literature-related references</i>): Oh, it's good! :)<br />
<b>TG:</b> But the address is not available.<br />
<b>Star</b> <i>(No! Trying to wriggle out of it)</i>: So... will you think of something else now?<br />
<b>TG:</b> I really wanna keep the grasshopper. But the adjective can change. Any suggestions?<br />
<b>Star</b>: Err.... The Fickle Grasshopper?<br />
<b>TG</b> <i>(Probably thinking how stupid I am)</i>: All grasshoppers are fickle! :/<br />
<b>Star: </b>Grasshopperopolis<br />
<b>TG:</b> I want something like The <adjective> Grasshopper.<br />
<b>Star</b> (<i>Can't think anymore!</i>): The Slimy Grasshopper. Will suit your thoughts. :P<br />
<b>TG:</b> What rubbish!<br />
<b>Star: </b>Oh, The Confused Grasshopper! The Urban Grasshopper!<br />
<b>TG:</b> Hmmm. Sounds nice. Something classier, perhaps? Something that makes it sound like a high end restaurant.<br />
<b>Star </b><i>(Confused)</i>: Huh? Ugh. Why do you want your personal blog to sound like a high-end restaurant?<br />
<b>TG:</b> Because my thoughts will be like tasty food. All plated finely too. You know?<br />
<b>Star </b><i>(#facepalm)</i>: The Pretentious Grasshopper<br />
<b>TG:</b> :O<br />
<b>Star </b><i>(very rudely)</i><b>:</b> I have had quite enough of you, I think.<br />
<b>TG:</b> Come on! How about The Lost Grasshopper?<br />
<b>Star:</b> Yes, that is good. <i>(To be honest, he could have said Timbaktoo at this point and I would have said it's good!)</i><br />
<b>TG:</b> The Grumpy Grasshopper?<br />
<b>Star:</b> Lost is better.<br />
<b>TG:</b> The Gifted Grasshopper?<br />
<b>Star</b>: Lost. Unless you mean "gifted" as in "special". Like dyslexic.<br />
<b>TG:</b> Okay, okay!<br />
<br />
After some time:<br />
<br />
<b>TG</b>: Made it.<br />
<b>Star</b> <i>(I thank the heavens and pray hard that he never creates another blog ever again.)</i>: Yay! :)<br />
<br />
All said and done, I really think that TG is a wonderful person and writer. Some of his poems that I have read are really good. So, once he puts something up on the blog, I will put up a link here and I hope that all of you will visit it, read it and encourage him. Hopefully, someday, he will join the ranks of his favourite elitist writers and I will bask in the glory of his first interview ever, that appeared on this blog. :P<br />
<br />
You go, TG! :)</div>
Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-42857102633774360382013-06-19T12:27:00.001-07:002013-06-19T13:12:44.603-07:00Tareekh Pe Tareekh, Tareekh Pe Tareekh!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am not going to state the obvious. You all know it's been long. A bit too long. 9 months to be precise.<br />
<br />
No, I wasn't too busy to write. And no, I wasn't having a "writer's block" either. And I had lots of things to write about too. Just no willingness to pen it down. Plus a massive inferiority complex about how silly this blog is.<br />
<br />
Anyway. I think I am over it. Today, when I opened my account for something else altogether, I read Nefertiti's recent posts, June's happy news and HG's rants and suggestions and I realised that I really, really want to write again. :) Even if it's terrible. Even if nobody reads it. Even if no one cares. What is important is that I want to write. Thanks, guys! :)<br />
<br />
So, what have I been upto in the last few months?<br />
<br />
Well, I worked. I studied. I fought with my parents. I went through a bad break-up. I met up with friends. I watched a few movies. I read some books. I loved and hated my kids. I loved and hated my colleagues. I breathed in. I breathed out.<br />
<br />
I did the most normal of the things. Went through phases - some really rough patches in school - and survived them. Still hate one of my colleagues with a passion. But it's all a part of the game.<br />
<br />
Went through some other really rough patches in my personal life too. But even that is a part of the game, I guess.<br />
<br />
Right now, I think I am in a better place than I have been in the last few months. (Of course, that has to do a lot with the summer holidays in school, but what the hell, eh? :P) I have finished with the Sanskrit course and so, if I pass these exams, I will have a second MA by the end of the next month. Pretty cool, right? :D What is cooler, though, is that the end of the course frees up a lot of my time. :D<br />
<br />
With this new found free time, I have been socializing quite a bit. :) I have met lots of new, interesting people. I organised my second Free Hugs Campaign in Bombay last week. I attended a Couchsurfing meet where we cooked and organised a whole dinner at the host's place. I learnt how to ride a bicycle. (Hey, better late than never, right?) I joined dance classes.<br />
<br />
I am preparing for a PhD application and hopefully, I will see this proposal through. I am really hoping that by August 2014, I will be in the US doing some kick ass research. :) What with the summer holidays, I am living quite the degenerated, student lifestyle of staying up until 2 in the night, waking up by 10, lazing around, reading, spending irrational amounts of time on various social networking sites, flopping down on the couch and watching TV and doing minimal work. I think I am totally ready for going back to that again. :P<br />
<br />
I also took a fair few trips in the last year - Bangalore in June 2012, Kutchh in November 2012, Calcutta in February 2013, Nashik in May 2013 and now, going to Panhala next week. The one place I couldn't get enough of was Calcutta. It was wonderful. And 4 days were just not enough. Can't wait until I get a chance to go back again. (Maybe I should write a post about it!)<br />
<br />
The Big Question: Will I write soon again or was this a one-off post like the last one?<br />
I don't really know. I guess we will find out.<br />
<br />
Until then,<br />
Very happy to be back,<br />
Star!</div>
Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-38623060792450446722012-10-21T07:14:00.001-07:002012-10-21T09:27:22.973-07:00School Stories<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It has been close to six months that I even opened my blogger account - whether to read other blogs I follow or to write a post of my own. That should be enough to give you all an idea of what School B has done to me. Anyway, however non-existent my personal and social life has become, the one thing that I LOVE about school are my kids! They are the reason I wake up and drag myself to school every morning. Because after all the hardwork, all the criticism from seniors, all the work piled on you because you are new, all the weekends spent in checking papers, when you enter the classroom and the children smile at you, you know in your heart that it was all worth it.<br />
<br />
But you know it is all worth it even more when you have great classroom moments. Some of my hilarious ones:<br />
<br />
<u>Selective listening:</u><br />
Me: During his early years as a poet, Frost got quite frustrated with the publishing industry in America and moved to England.<br />
Student 1: But why, miss? He was married, no?!<br />
<br />
<u>Distraction techniques:</u><br />
Student 2: Miss, if Robert Frost gave a hickey to his girlfriend, what would it be?<br />
Me: I don't think that is relevant right now. Let's move on.<br />
Student 2: Please, miss. It is really funny!<br />
Me: So, in this poem, he...<br />
Student 2: A Frost bite, miss!!<br />
<br />
<u>Silly jokes not meant for distraction but end up making the whole class laugh:</u><br />
Me: Write a poem titled "Metaphors".<br />
Students 3: Lets all Metaphor a drink. Geddit? *bobs head*<br />
<br />
<u>Make the teacher panic:</u><br />
Student 4: Miss, don't you think K and I are the best couple ever?! Look at us!<br />
Me: 1) Please stand at an arm's length from each other and 2) Lets have one cardinal rule in this classroom. No touching anyone. Whether appropriately or inappropriately. Are we all clear?<br />
All the students: *burst out laughing*<br />
<br />
Lastly, one non-hilarious but mushy moment for me: This Teacher's day, my ninth standard kids gave me a lovely card and some of the lines on it read: "What she lacks in size, she makes up for in energy./ We will never find a teacher who is so lively.." Made. My. Day. :D<br />
<br />
Those have been my last few months. What about you all?<br />
<br /></div>
Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-26086154396403062542012-05-07T07:38:00.000-07:002012-05-07T07:38:22.847-07:00Beach<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">On Saturday, a cousin and I went to the Juhu beach and this is what we did:<br />
<br />
1. Ate bhutta and chana masala.<br />
<br />
2. Walked barefoot on the beach.<br />
<br />
3. Looked at the airplanes until they disappeared in the sky.<br />
<br />
4. Watched the sunset.<br />
<br />
5. Watched the people.<br />
<br />
6. Watched the clouds changing shapes and tried to figure out what they are. Some of the interesting ones we got were: a very fat crocodile trying to eat a rabbit, two camels sitting one behind the other, one dinosaurs, one witch, one ship, Pluto (the Disney dog), a hill, a rocking horse and two teddy bears, one of which looked a bit ferocious. </div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-5563135576148136772012-04-29T22:37:00.002-07:002012-04-29T22:43:53.377-07:00Headlines<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Following up from the last post, here are some of the newspaper headlines I've collected in the last month or so. These may help in understanding some of the deeply entrenched problems in the country, culture, society and times that we are living in right now.<br />
<br />
1. <b>President in land row over Pune plot size</b> (This seems to have been resolved for the time being by her giving up on the humongous plot which was supposed to have been reserved for war widows and on which she decided to build her post retirement bunglow.)<br />
<br />
2. <b>State loses out on crores in rent on prime plots: CAG</b> (There is no resolution out yet. Story in a nutshell seems to be: In a bid to get more votes, Government brought about Rent Regulation Act so many years ago due to which many people practically lost their properties to their tenants because they could neither evict the tenants nor increase their rents. One of the other similar Acts has resulted in commercial complexes in prime areas owned by the State Government paying as little as Rs. 10-80 as rents. Of course, if the Government employees' pockets wouldn't have been sufficiently filled over the years, such Acts would have been revoked aeons ago.)<br />
<br />
3. <b>2 cops suspended for sexually harassing a woman-sub-inspector.</b> (No comments here.)<br />
<br />
4. <b>Many drunk drivers caught but few punished, reveal stats</b>. (In the last month alone, I have read of at least 10 different drunk and drive incidents causing in death of several people. Out of them, not even one of the drunk drivers is still in police custody today. And one of them (a Punjab minister's son) even abused the police and used his contacts to get off. So, 10 extreme cases of drunk driving in just one month reported in the media. Imagine how many potential accidents and deaths are driving around on the streets.)<br />
<br />
5. <b>Thane cops issue gun license to gangster.</b> (Apparently because he was a recognised criminal in Mumbai division police stations but this information was not know to the Thane division police.)<br />
<br />
6.<b> 23 held guilty in Gujrat's Ode carnage case of 2002</b>. (This one is outrageous because Gujrat riots occurred 10 years ago and the justice is being delivered only now. Also, out of the 29 accused, 3 had died in the last 10 years without having to undergo any punishment for their actions.)<br />
<br />
7. <b>Bangalore baby beaten, bitten because father wanted a son</b>. (No comments again. Such headlines have become too common in the last few years to feel comfortable living in such deeply misogynist society.)<br />
<br />
Yes, I know this is a biased post. Yes, I know many happy, optimistic, we-have-made-so-much-technological-progress-we-are-so-awesome type news also come out in the newspapers and I chose to focus on these local news. But really, somebody launching a missile to Mars does not make as much difference to me as a potential drunk driver crossing my path or a misogynist police force does.<br />
<br />
Bottom line is that this country is soon heading for enormous catastrophes and I can see some very difficult times for common, ordinary, non-political-related people ahead of us.</div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-39126152527835543502012-04-09T11:06:00.001-07:002012-04-09T22:14:00.736-07:00Mera Bharat Mahan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">On the first page of <i>The Great Indian Novel</i> by Shashi Tharoor, he says: India is not a developing country. It is a developed country in an advanced state of decay.<br />
<br />
And every passing day, when I read the newspapers and when I find out new things about ancient Indian customs and philosophies via the Sanskrit classes/ books/ discussions with various people, I am more and more convinced of the truth of that statement. India is in such a pathetic condition today that sometimes, just sometimes, I feel super ashamed that I'm an Indian. And it takes a lot for anybody to say such a thing about their own country.<br />
<br />
We are a country with such a glorious past. But for how long can we continue living in the past? Look at the condition of our country today, the psyche of the people, the political and economic condition. All you'll see is decay. One of the articles that is doing the rounds of the internet these days shows what a substandard and absolutely filthy mentality the Delhi police has. (I'm sure you'll must have read it by now but if you haven't, <a href="http://tehelka.com/story_main52.asp?filename=Ne140412Coverstory.asp" target="_blank">here</a> it is.) These are the people who are the first point of contact for victims of any kind, rape or otherwise. And this is the city that is supposed to represent our nation.<br />
<br />
I started the list with that article because it is exploding the social networking sites these days. But there are thousands of such small and big examples which point towards innumerable problems faced by common Indians today. Every single day, we read articles about rapes, murders and thefts in our cities. In fact, it is so common that we read about it and we forget. It has totally desensitized us. A few months ago, one of my friends' grandmother, an 86-year old woman, was sitting in the park after her daily walk. A young man came and started chatting with her. After a while, he tried to snatch her purse and run away. What he failed to realise was that the purse was wrapped around her wrist and held on to tightly. The poor woman fell down from the bench and broke one of her bones. Of course, by this time, there was a bit of a commotion around there and the man ran away on his bike. But, in an attempt to earn a few hundred rupees, which he lost anyway, he cost the old woman a couple of lakh rupees for her hospital, fracture, tests, medicine etc bills. Plus, the added anxiety to the family members. What is more pathetic is that not everybody is able to afford such sudden and unforeseen costs. And this was a totally avoidable problem.<br />
<br />
So, this moral corruption, which begins at such a small level has, today, pervaded every nook and cranny of our society. And it is this same moral corruption at little points that eventually become 2G, CWG, Cash for Vote and so many other scams. It is despicable how the common man is being taken for a ride by anyone and everyone around here. Corruption has rotten our Government to the core.<br />
<br />
If all this wasn't enough, we have <a href="http://www.timesofassam.com/headlines/anna-hazare-and-jan-lokpal-bill-drama-ends/" target="_blank">Anna Hazare</a> and the <a href="http://www.indianexpress.com/news/hostage-crisis-maoists-want-to-exchange-mla-with-30-prisoners/934419/1" target="_blank">Maoists</a>, who think they can blackmail the government at the drop of the hat. The Government might not be right but this kind of blackmail is not the right way to deal with it either. Tomorrow, anyone who manages to gather a lot of media attention can ask the Government to make bikinis compulsory school uniform, donkey the national animal and demand that they kill Rahul Gandhi, can't they? Of course, these will be much more practical demands than the Jan Lokpal Bill but that is a totally different issue.<br />
<br />
Another point I'd noted down in relation to Jan Lokpal Bill is about the people who supported it. I had once noted in the newspaper how a big group of Rickshaw <i>wallahs</i> were demonstrating at Azad Maidan alongside Anna Hazare, against corruption. But these were the same Rickshaw <i>wallahs</i> who rigged their meters and fooled the hapless customers into paying more than what they owe.<br />
<br />
Which obviously leads us back to where we started. Corruption is not only limited to politics and corporate companies. It is everywhere around us. These rickshaw <i>wallahs</i>, you, me, all of us are guilty of small things. Everytime we pay the police to get our passports passed quickly, everytime we throw garbage on our roads, everytime we pay off the traffic policeman into letting us go, we contribute to the corruption problem faced by our country. We are ready to pay Rs. 150 per person to go watch a film on the weekend but if the Government levies some extra tax on some necessity, we crib. We don't want to pay the taxes, we want to throw garbage on the roads and we also want to crib about how the Government can't even keep our roads cleaned. Err, who is right and who is wrong? (I know that the scenario is quite the opposite. The Government not only collects taxes, it also doesn't clean up. I'm just talking about the mentality.)<br />
<br />
What I'm trying to point out here is that it's a circle. Neither the Government nor the people can be completely blamed for the corruption problem. But what gets my goat is that I don't see any practical solution for it all. *This is where the anger begins.*</div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-46714512642086208902012-04-04T03:04:00.001-07:002012-04-04T03:10:01.540-07:00Men<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Carol Ann Duffy is quickly turning out to be my latest favourite poet. I've been researching her poems for my students and while doing so, I came across almost all of her "<a href="http://www.freewebs.com/carolannduffypoems/index.htm" target="_blank">World's Wife</a>" poems, which are absolutely hilarious! In this particular collection of her's, she has presented the points of view of the wives of famous male personalities. (barring Elvis Presley, whose sister's point of view has been presented.)<br />
<br />
And as a woman, sometimes, these stories just click so well and I can relate to them so perfectly. Today, when 3 women who are very close to me have narrated similar stories to me, just like the one in this poem, I feel the need to put it up.. Not only is this something that men often do and women often suffer, it is also a sentiment perfectly captured and subverted to achieve the right effect.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Pygmalion's Bride</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Cold, I was, like snow, like ivory.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I thought He will not touch me,</div><div style="text-align: center;">But he did </div><div style="text-align: center;">He kissed my stone-cool lips.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I lay still</div><div style="text-align: center;">As though I’d died.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He stayed.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He thumbed my marble eyes.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He spoke – </div><div style="text-align: center;">Blunt endearments, what he’d do and how.</div><div style="text-align: center;">His words were terrible.</div><div style="text-align: center;">My ears were sculpture</div><div style="text-align: center;">Stone-deaf, shells.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I heard the sea.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I drowned him out.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I heard him shout.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He brought me presents, polished pebbles, </div><div style="text-align: center;">little bells.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I didn’t blink,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Was dumb.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He brought me pearls and necklaces and rings.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He called them girly things.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He ran his clammy hands along my limbs.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I didn’t shrink,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Played statue, shtum.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He let his fingers sink into my flesh, </div><div style="text-align: center;">He squeezed, he pressed.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I would not bruise.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He looked for marks, </div><div style="text-align: center;">For purple hearts,</div><div style="text-align: center;">For inky stars, for smudgy clues.</div><div style="text-align: center;">His nails were claws.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I showed no scratch, no scrape, no scar.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He propped me up on pillows,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Jawed all night.</div><div style="text-align: center;">My heart was ice, was glass.</div><div style="text-align: center;">His voice was gravel, hoarse.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He talked white black. </div><div style="text-align: center;">So I changed tack,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Grew warm, like candle wax,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Kissed back,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Was soft, was pliable, </div><div style="text-align: center;">Began to moan,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Got hot, got wild,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Arched, coiled, writhed,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Begged for his child,</div><div style="text-align: center;">And at the climax</div><div style="text-align: center;">Screamed my head off – </div><div style="text-align: center;">All an act</div><div style="text-align: center;">And haven’t seen him since.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Simple as that. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">For those who don't know who Pygmalion is, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pygmalion_(mythology)" target="_blank">here</a> is the wikipedia link for the story. I don't particularly want to dwell on the details of my friends' stories here. But suffice to say that three hearts were broken because of the hot-cold-hot-cold attitude that confused men often adopt. I wish men would understand that it's not okay to encourage a woman and then let her down by putting all the blame on her; that it's not okay to stop communicating out of the blue and then place the blame on the girl of actually saying the word "break up" out loud; that it's not okay to get into a relationship simply because you're lonely and then get out of it when you need space.<br />
<br />
All relationships have to be worked at and they require efforts. If you don't want to put in the efforts but want the results, then it's never going to work out. And this advice goes out to everybody, irrespective of their gender.</div><br />
</div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-86927849108999754072012-03-26T05:57:00.002-07:002012-03-26T06:45:49.231-07:00The Origins of Bollywood<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I have solid proof that the plots and the extensive drama in Bollywood all comes from Sanskrit Drama. Don't believe me? This is one of the most famous plays in Sanskrit Literature written by Kalidas, one of the most notable Sanskrit poets and playwrights ever.<br />
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<b><i>Abhijnana Shakuntalam:</i></b> A sage (Sage1) is enticed by a nymph (<i>Beedi jalaile jigar se piya, jigar ma badi aag hai!</i>) and as a result, they have a daughter. Sage1 is furious that his izzat was lootoed by a celestial nymph and goes away leaving the child behind. Nymph can't take the little girl with her to the heavens and so, she is left abandoned in the forest. Sage2 comes and sees the little child and decides to take her home. Nymph-child grows up to be as enticing and lovely as her mother.<br />
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<a href="http://www.chagloo.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/chagloo-daily-desi-tadka-june-14-2011-news-politics-Bollywood-Tadka-Irony-of-Kalidas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="http://www.chagloo.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/chagloo-daily-desi-tadka-june-14-2011-news-politics-Bollywood-Tadka-Irony-of-Kalidas.jpg" width="320" /></a>20 years later: A handsome king comes to the forest for hunting. He sees the nymph-child who's now a beautiful nymph-child-woman and promptly falls in love with her. (<i>Tujhe dekha toh yeh jaana sanam, pyaar hota hai deewana sanam, ab yahan se kahan jaaye hum? Teri baahon mein mar jaaye hum!</i>) They get married in the Gandharva fashion (which basically means they have sex without letting anyone know that they are "married".) A few days later, he has to go back to his kingdom urgently. So, he gives her a ring as a souvenir and promises to come back to get her. (Can you picture a Shahrukh Khan saying: <i>Yeh anguthi meri aur mere pyaar nishaani hai! Ise sambhal ke rakhna. Main jaldhi vapis aaunga aur tumhe mere saath le jaaunga.</i>) Why he can't take her with him at this point is a pointless question to ask. Like you don't ask any logical questions in Bollywood, you don't ask them in Sanskrit drama either.<br />
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Sage3 comes to visit the <i>ashrama</i>. Nymph-child-woman is busy thinking about the King and doesn't see him. He is enraged and curses her that the person she was thinking of will forget all about her. She is scared and explains her situation to him. (<i>Aisi kadi saza mat dijiye, Gurudev! Main bas apne pati ke baare mein soch rahi thi! Pata nahi kaise honge, kis haal mein honge, khana khaya hoga ya nahi! Kripaya mujhe maaf kar dijiye!</i>) He concedes to lessen the punishment and says that when the King sees an important souvenir that he had offered her, he will remember everything again.<br />
<br />
Nymph-child-woman leaves the forest to go to the King. All the plants and animals are sad to see her go and give her farewell presents. (<i>Picturing a song here?</i>) But when she comes across a lake, she loses her ring in the water. She reaches the King's court and the curse kicks in action. He fails to recognise her. She comes back. (<i>Tujhe yaad naa meri aayi, kisise ab kya kehna? Dil roya ke ankh bha aayi, kisi se ab kya kehna!</i>)<br />
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A fisherman finds the ring inside a fish's belly, recognises the royal symbol and goes to the King. As soon as the King sees the ring, he remembers everything (<i>Mujhse yeh kaisa anarth ho gaya, bhagvan! Main use kaise nahi pehchaan paya?</i>) He immediately goes back to fetch the Nymph-child-woman, who now has a son. And they live happily ever after.<br />
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See what I mean?<br />
<br />
I have several examples like this one which will prove that Bollywood plots originated in Sanskrit Drama (<i>Vikramorvashiyam, Mrichhkatika</i> - to name a couple.) An interesting topic for a paper or a conference, methinks. :P What do you think?<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">*Image courtesy: Google images</span></div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-47167722331625362622012-03-16T10:37:00.001-07:002012-03-16T10:39:32.152-07:00Shakespeare<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;">1. Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;">Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;">More than cool reason ever comprehends.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;">~ Theseus, <i>A Midsummer Night's Dream</i>.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;">2. Love is merely a madness, and I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do; and the reason why they are not so punished and cured is that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers are in love too.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;">~ Rosalind, <i>As You Like It.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;">3. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;">Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;">~ Benvolio, <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;">4. Men have died from time to time and worms have eaten them, but not for love.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;">~ Rosalind, <i>As You Like It</i>.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;">Shakespeare sure had some right notions about love.</span></div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-22141692138623914012012-03-12T07:25:00.001-07:002012-03-12T07:27:44.495-07:00The "We should..." Syndrome<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">How many times have you all heard "We should blah, blah, blah..." and then ended up doing all those blahs yourself?<br />
<br />
I am so tired of everyone constantly telling me "We should..." Next time someone says that, I'm going to get a dictionary and show them the REAL meaning of "we".<br />
<br />
Recently, a cousin: We should do something special for (another cousin)'s b'day.<br />
Sure. I planned her party, made her gift, got it printed AND paid for it all. Where was the "we" in it?<br />
<br />
Worst part: since this is family, I "shouldn't say anything. Just be careful of such situations next time." My parents are the worst doormats ever outside our house. And inside, they teach me how to be the world's worst doormat.<br />
<br />
This has happened so many times before, I'm tired of it. Thankfully, this time, at Sanskrit department, when my friends told me "We should plan something for Second Year students' farewell party.", I was on full alert mode. I didn't open my mouth and kept it shut until all the tasks had been assigned. Obviously, if I don't open my mouth, I can't look over-enthusiastic, making people think it's okay to pile me with work. So, now, I just have to write a play in Sanskrit and the others are taking care of food, songs, invitations etc.<br />
<br />
FUCKING IDIOT! WRITE A FUCKING PLAY IN SANSKRIT! HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?!<br />
<br />
Anyway, I'm smarter than I thought I was. I wrote a mime. :P<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">P.S: I realise it's the first time I'm writing about Sanskrit Bhavan or anything related to Sanskrit ever since I started learning it almost a year ago. Wow. Both Sanskrit and this blog need more attention from me!</span></div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-90575538123298962622012-02-21T10:49:00.001-08:002012-10-21T03:03:39.264-07:00Poems<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">My stint at Xavier's coming to an end soon, I applied for a job at a school, here in South Bombay. Luckily, I got selected after just one demo class. So, congratulations are in order once more. :)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">So, come May, I will be an English Literature teacher at School B. And I'm pretty excited for this. The same prof, whom I'm covering for at Xavier's right now recommended me to the school and told me about the position available. Cool, eh? :)</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Why Poems, you ask?</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Because, for my demo class I was asked to do an unseen poem with the students. Thus, I got to researching, bringing out all my old poetry books et al. Finally, I selected <a href="http://allpoetry.com/poem/8511445-I_Know_Why_The_Caged_Bird_Sings-by-Maya_Angelou">I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings</a> by Maya Angelou because Angelou is an important figure in literature and I wanted to introduce them to some African American literature. But during all that researching, I discovered and rediscovered some gems of poetry and wanted to share that with you all:</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">1. Refusal ~ Maya Angelou</span> </div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" id="table23"><tbody>
<tr><td class="wY100px" style="width: 523px;" valign="top"><span class="f14px fntAri clr333333" style="color: #333333;">Beloved,<br />
In what other lives or lands<br />
Have I known your lips<br />
Your Hands<br />
Your Laughter brave<br />
Irreverent.<br />
Those sweet excesses that<br />
I do adore.<br />
What surety is there<br />
That we will meet again,<br />
On other worlds some<br />
Future time undated.<br />
I defy my body's haste.<br />
Without the promise<br />
Of one more sweet encounter<br />
I will not deign to die.<span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
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It's just so beautiful a sentiment, so well-expressed and so touching! Most of us (well, girls, at least. I don't know about boys.) know how important it is to meet that one last time before saying good-bye. And that sentiment has been captured with such lovely and tragic imagery here. It's become one of my absolute favourites. And this is saying something because in general, I don't much like poetry as a medium.<br />
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<span class="f14px fntAri clr333333" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
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</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #fffcf6; color: #333333;">2. He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven ~ W. B. Yeats</span></span><br />
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #fffcf6; color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,<br />
Enwrought with golden and silver light,<br />
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths<br />
Of night and light and the half-light,<br />
I would spread the cloths under your feet:<br />
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;<br />
I have spread my dreams under your feet;<br />
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. </span></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #fffcf6; color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #fffcf6; color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I was discussing the previous poem with Moon when she remembered this one from our poetry class with Chhaya Mam from 5 years ago. I came back home and immediately googled it and got it back. Some poems just take your breath away with the lovely images that they paint for you and this is one of them.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #fffcf6; color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #fffcf6; color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">3. We Real Cool ~ Gwendolyn Brooks</span></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The Pool Players.<br />
Seven at the Golden Shovel.<br />
<br />
We real cool. We<br />
Left school. We<br />
<br />
Lurk late. We<br />
Strike straight. We<br />
<br />
Sing sin. We<br />
Thin gin. We<br />
<br />
Jazz June. We<br />
Die soon.</span></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">This was the second poem I did with the students during my demo class. I used it to show the students how two very different voices came from the African-American community during the same time in mid-20th century and how they brought out two completely different aspects of their way of life and their relation with the rest of the society. This one is so poignant and dark, it gave me goosebumps when I read it. And so, this one also goes in along with the other "favourite poems". </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">There are a few more that I really like. Some poems by poets like e e cummings, Ogden Nash, Alexander Pope, Jonathan Swift, Eunice D'Souza, T. S. Eliot, W. B. Yeats and sometimes even some Elizabethan (16th century) and Romantic (early 19th century) poets are included in the list of poems/ poets I like. I hope you liked these ones and that these names inspire you to go and research and read a few yourself. :)</span></span></div>
</div>
Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-3432582751387131142012-02-14T05:52:00.000-08:002012-02-14T05:52:48.997-08:00Obligatory annual V-day post<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Come back, fellas! I'm not going to rant/ wax eloquent about Valentine's Day. I still think it's an excuse of a festival and totally unnecessary.<br />
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This year, though, 14th February is a special occasion. Because of <a href="http://akhondofswat.blogspot.in/2012/02/flashreads-for-february-14th.html">this</a>. Please read it before continuing reading here.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-ewJARn2sfnnWqMoXI1EtfLd5BG7D8pCYa-h-Bi8C4OxrEDL8xqKtqcF8Lc2knyDVy7GRy8BekLuiLcr6LzvVBUYkNPjwEZo_iPyrXu7kFz3bkb8IYe1mgdM5FDfu565DEiYfiJqlEFi/s1600/FREEPEACH_0001.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-ewJARn2sfnnWqMoXI1EtfLd5BG7D8pCYa-h-Bi8C4OxrEDL8xqKtqcF8Lc2knyDVy7GRy8BekLuiLcr6LzvVBUYkNPjwEZo_iPyrXu7kFz3bkb8IYe1mgdM5FDfu565DEiYfiJqlEFi/s320/FREEPEACH_0001.png" width="226" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is just one of my favourite posters made by <a href="http://antiblurbs.blogspot.in/2012/02/posters-for-flashreads.html">Sanjay Sipahimalani </a>for the Free Speech Day. Of course, as a big Rushdie fan, I'm totally for supporting this movement. Best part is that I talked to a few of my students about the #flashread and they're very enthusiastic about it as well. Unfortunately, we didn't get enough time to organise and do it today but we're definitely going to do it soon - like next week or so. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">If it does materialize, I'll definitely put up pictures/ videos. Until then, support the Free Peach!</div><br />
</div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-69192156770340304762012-01-19T09:15:00.000-08:002012-01-19T09:19:30.009-08:00The Big News<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Subtitled: Twenty-fucking-three<br />
<br />
So, I turned twenty-three yesterday. (And no, that's not the big news.) I know most of you who read this blog will hate me for being so young and then, for cribbing about growing old. But dude, honestly. I feel so old. :/Like, it was all okay until I was 22. But 23 is a big deal. Scary.<br />
<br />
Eh. Anyway. I had a lovely day yesterday! :) Involving flowers and chocolates, tea and cupcakes, shopping and jewellery, cheese dosa, kamrakh (star-fruit; my favourite!), lots of books and lovely cards! :) And crazy surprises from two of my cousins. So much fun. I wish I could have birthdays without having to grow old. *sigh*<br />
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So, big news. :D 2012 has started off with a loud bang for me. I've not felt happier than I am right now in a bloody long time. Remember my <a href="http://carpediemscorner.blogspot.com/2010/09/30-before-30.html">30 before 30</a> list? Well, I have been scratching things off that list for some time now. Also, daresay, some things on the list itself have changed and I might have to edit it or make a whole new list. But for now, I have news about having scratched an important thing off it. Something that I didn't think was possible until I turned 28-29. Or 30 even.<br />
<strike><span style="color: purple;">27. <span style="background-color: #fff9ee; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Teach at Xavier's. Even if it is only as a visiting faculty or filling in for someone.</span></span></strike><br />
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">Chhaya Mam (my favourite prof from our college) called me a few days ago and asked me if I can cover for her for the next 2 months, teaching her First Year and Third Year students Literature as she has to urgently go on a medical leave. Luckily for me, I had only one batch of students that I teach in the evening going on at the moment. So, I could take up that opportunity and I started immediately. :) The best part is that I'm teaching Modern Drama and Film - my favourite subjects from college! Mam remembered that and decided it'll be best if I covered that. I feel *so* lucky!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">I remember entering Xavier's for the first time and being totally awed by the first quad(rangle) and the chapel. Here, I have felt a sense of belongingness I've never felt elsewhere - not in school, not in Leeds and not at any of the places I've worked. And last week, when I entered college as a teacher for the first time, I felt the same sense of wonder and pride. I love my college. :) It's so true, Xavier's gave me my roots and my wings. (Ref: Xavier's anthem: Xavier's, you gave me roots and wings...) So, I could take flight, go abroad, learn a lot of things. But it also gave me the roots which have always made me want to come back here. I hope I can do full justice to my role as a teacher.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">Wish me luck! :)</span></span></div></div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-83258323957950857112012-01-09T06:49:00.000-08:002012-01-09T20:00:59.966-08:00Stuff geniuses* are made of<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>(*Where you decide what/ who genius stands for. :P)<br />
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So, it seems that even though I have A LOT of things to say, I might not yet be ready to blog again.<br />
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Therefore, all I will tell you is that I've had a lot of time on my hands in the last few months and one of the things I've done in that lot of time is cook. A lot. (This is where you feel jealous of me/ not being able to live with me.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizCplXUYgIJ2WbPh6-F6XBFxeKr_xH1_VLxBhaRUj78S8gn7w6UsPUKXU2ENffhqlUr_O5SLTTAlgMcHsodAmUvMhnmv5pJkcKl6O2UwFVyAotvn1NA24Q8QX8jyixMLbLomwY3KLqibqF/s1600/P1022792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizCplXUYgIJ2WbPh6-F6XBFxeKr_xH1_VLxBhaRUj78S8gn7w6UsPUKXU2ENffhqlUr_O5SLTTAlgMcHsodAmUvMhnmv5pJkcKl6O2UwFVyAotvn1NA24Q8QX8jyixMLbLomwY3KLqibqF/s320/P1022792.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate Overdose: Chocolate cake with chocolate sauce, chocolate sprinkles and Cadbury Dairy Milk shots. - For Hoppy's B'day</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYctJVGh7hbPWvrqCU7lPPzCb5lEGamenpeIy6rZO5ZjlpMYvokHhGYjgBtMDY2ZPhosXs2ggKXPIMAMnaM9VZ4if6BhSOZBkWu9bxmf8xyIYLK1hw2IJ550PogjHnKs7Qrd6CsLUikkBX/s1600/P1032848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYctJVGh7hbPWvrqCU7lPPzCb5lEGamenpeIy6rZO5ZjlpMYvokHhGYjgBtMDY2ZPhosXs2ggKXPIMAMnaM9VZ4if6BhSOZBkWu9bxmf8xyIYLK1hw2IJ550PogjHnKs7Qrd6CsLUikkBX/s320/P1032848.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vegetable Thai Green Curry with steam rice - One of the tastiest and healthiest dishes ever! :D</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1p5UsaFtT3TEwiQbm52HYtHlbEmMN-il-omYR-f1aTJiZ1DbdCnuVGnfPhLiXRCQ3qh09c7sJ_xtDDcOIlNhjOWmu_B2lmK0ms6FG1pcP66mEzh67wlh7pCAhCqeydBaolgb2LBiD174T/s1600/P1012787.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1p5UsaFtT3TEwiQbm52HYtHlbEmMN-il-omYR-f1aTJiZ1DbdCnuVGnfPhLiXRCQ3qh09c7sJ_xtDDcOIlNhjOWmu_B2lmK0ms6FG1pcP66mEzh67wlh7pCAhCqeydBaolgb2LBiD174T/s320/P1012787.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pear and Caramel cake</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ5dqhlUo94aB0kjlwm390Ix81qwGQkzfm3AIgrdKSWgSRXCadd9ZEpMuN2EhhqC6bcZx3DlZ-xxRqsx4IMyLy5lfAzB56FGus1Qqx-w0fuGA9Y2Soe2PO1QcR_wKqfdcLXO_VPYf4mI3k/s1600/P1232890.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ5dqhlUo94aB0kjlwm390Ix81qwGQkzfm3AIgrdKSWgSRXCadd9ZEpMuN2EhhqC6bcZx3DlZ-xxRqsx4IMyLy5lfAzB56FGus1Qqx-w0fuGA9Y2Soe2PO1QcR_wKqfdcLXO_VPYf4mI3k/s320/P1232890.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jalebi...errr...Jaleba bhai</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_qIChFmk1_KjHHvlFtdnUT0KCfVCy6XU-DxOHAHcB55vz4UhF9kGfQ0KPDVmJ__ExL3Ln8ZJ43dCPO4B84c988Gjt1XwHvmi6BUN1jdiJ462Pj8FuKRDv-SG3Ms7ePLriODdHYc4axsfF/s1600/P1292907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_qIChFmk1_KjHHvlFtdnUT0KCfVCy6XU-DxOHAHcB55vz4UhF9kGfQ0KPDVmJ__ExL3Ln8ZJ43dCPO4B84c988Gjt1XwHvmi6BUN1jdiJ462Pj8FuKRDv-SG3Ms7ePLriODdHYc4axsfF/s320/P1292907.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Creamy White Sauce Pasta - was *so* good!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3P9AyjqqRNcVfazIQK2VKH0ux46Y3KEYVJqNejC6cAGtXQciUpaeikQppNwfw6OeadeeGOXBTL9-KyL6FyI_E9cndunAwhWKceISXtNDRfohsV3OfFBdd5yMBp-W1K4NognFx7Qb2n6FA/s1600/P1302913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3P9AyjqqRNcVfazIQK2VKH0ux46Y3KEYVJqNejC6cAGtXQciUpaeikQppNwfw6OeadeeGOXBTL9-KyL6FyI_E9cndunAwhWKceISXtNDRfohsV3OfFBdd5yMBp-W1K4NognFx7Qb2n6FA/s320/P1302913.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Achaari Bhindi (Tangy Okra) - So crisp, it felt like a healthier version of chips! :D</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8VGyfjX2DRj9SPHU3ll8Ttgz4t-Ektle-qvpGo413LY6YhKmTtjldGTv3LtLGBHDmq8KaKuXTyw3-qKNM_WiYX0RBG0zolq5UarVmdi8Zpmz8l9yUXnCAg18H1eAX9_bLb9RePzFskxN/s1600/PC182773.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8VGyfjX2DRj9SPHU3ll8Ttgz4t-Ektle-qvpGo413LY6YhKmTtjldGTv3LtLGBHDmq8KaKuXTyw3-qKNM_WiYX0RBG0zolq5UarVmdi8Zpmz8l9yUXnCAg18H1eAX9_bLb9RePzFskxN/s320/PC182773.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Samosas with sweet Date chutney</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwi9B1KWtnVf0QxCfw9SzcmZ6v5BVUonqbtZ6JaeRNvNg0-GTr4j589GygM-5J-_3LL6_6u0c0TnY8MQyNR017rDwUoG3d3uf2vQJmVZ1hTLRki-3uY3u-fqyF6oWojFHWkt1yxuQv9khY/s1600/PC182771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwi9B1KWtnVf0QxCfw9SzcmZ6v5BVUonqbtZ6JaeRNvNg0-GTr4j589GygM-5J-_3LL6_6u0c0TnY8MQyNR017rDwUoG3d3uf2vQJmVZ1hTLRki-3uY3u-fqyF6oWojFHWkt1yxuQv9khY/s320/PC182771.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wheat Samosas - basically, a healthier version of regular samosas :D</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amla Khichdi - recipe from Food Food's Health Maange More show - if you like khichdi, you'll like this. :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freshly baked Cheese Garlic Bread - So droolworthy! The BEST of all these dishes. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdPYyDxPdNrP9W6BwYqYVryQOLc41v8gaTYsO1ofyMLz_9xgp3F_yp5ueM1Ujiv8mdCRBvzzj9vLID2fBvo2vdOWvPPjOHbOPV8UroXLa1qsufhyA4zNFWQBztGI1KgGubzdXDs_QQauJ5/s1600/P1302944.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdPYyDxPdNrP9W6BwYqYVryQOLc41v8gaTYsO1ofyMLz_9xgp3F_yp5ueM1Ujiv8mdCRBvzzj9vLID2fBvo2vdOWvPPjOHbOPV8UroXLa1qsufhyA4zNFWQBztGI1KgGubzdXDs_QQauJ5/s320/P1302944.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ginger-Carrot cupcake - Was lovely and moist! :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuGMdwk8j7k2Gjmr6TyiAQ5Fw3cYkHtu3frMzxCEVp7lIPE43VGr3EamuO6Lv1XrNq6ePSCyXmiwnUBGMO1gQ_bYT0NVGQ3YV2xMscBTq7bzEo_6HLyi5pIX3sXpky35abqZkcDRh0cBuU/s1600/P2152968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuGMdwk8j7k2Gjmr6TyiAQ5Fw3cYkHtu3frMzxCEVp7lIPE43VGr3EamuO6Lv1XrNq6ePSCyXmiwnUBGMO1gQ_bYT0NVGQ3YV2xMscBTq7bzEo_6HLyi5pIX3sXpky35abqZkcDRh0cBuU/s320/P2152968.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ricotta-Mushroom Risotto</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strawberry Cake with Fresh Cream Icing </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3s6uqwPyCOWRrx9JnWQXkcTrAVQUNTy1YVwje-dZ4Qu8tbBkP5_GwuuLdDDdE8lZtUZbW20N_UWQEGi-mR2cfip3QqSBLcWxlVY2WpVw70M5s63WymQlroWIfcOl5q54b3fIaWahfitCd/s1600/DSCN0644+-.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3s6uqwPyCOWRrx9JnWQXkcTrAVQUNTy1YVwje-dZ4Qu8tbBkP5_GwuuLdDDdE8lZtUZbW20N_UWQEGi-mR2cfip3QqSBLcWxlVY2WpVw70M5s63WymQlroWIfcOl5q54b3fIaWahfitCd/s320/DSCN0644+-.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orange Cake with Fresh Cream and Kiwi icing - For Moon's very, long overdue b'day cake! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXUgsxb19HNlBmndkKxhyphenhyphenD9Q95ojGABBmZyTHYFePZA6azZJl3tXoC-locbdghvtKjX5v2VJF8RjtfchH-sOojJwyZFq35x3WoQ9oNZi-sJJRRoifoCUPML4Wwbftam5ZoZ26Me9n-agig/s1600/P2212988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXUgsxb19HNlBmndkKxhyphenhyphenD9Q95ojGABBmZyTHYFePZA6azZJl3tXoC-locbdghvtKjX5v2VJF8RjtfchH-sOojJwyZFq35x3WoQ9oNZi-sJJRRoifoCUPML4Wwbftam5ZoZ26Me9n-agig/s320/P2212988.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fresh chocolate chip cookies for a Christmas gift</td></tr>
</tbody></table>There are many more dishes (like one Mexican rice which was so easy and delicious, I suggest you go and find a recipe right now!) that I made but didn't click pictures of/ can't find pictures now. But I think these were enough to prove a point. ;)<br />
<br />
Okay, you may now beg me to invite you over for food. OR, if you live in Mumbai and won't interfere with my cooking, (and preferably buy me all the ingredients and pay me to cook) you may also invite me over to use your kitchen from time to time. :P</div></div></div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-76870482002068516042011-12-22T21:55:00.000-08:002011-12-22T21:55:52.220-08:00The best Christmas gift ever!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>I read somewhere that a good memory is the best gift one can ever give/ get. And I totally believe in this.<br />
<br />
So, imagine how happy I must have been when a couple of days ago, I went to my grand father's place and he brought out all the old files that my grand mother had saved up for different reasons. :D Most of them contained newspaper clippings of recipes, good thoughts, poetry and crochet designs. We even found the "Congratulations, Star!" celebratory note that my grandparents and uncle and aunt had written for me and got published in a local newspaper when I had passed my board exams and greeting cards made by Bik (my cousin) and me for her. And, then! Then, I found an old diary that she used to write in, in 1960!!! I was all over the place, dancing happily. :)<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwYE89h7Jyx-9498GvJMXCgMvfO78CMi1qZ8_Vh1XaM7uZ9tvxtaP03if3qippSjGrPilsDXHPzh41mwlideSNzLNAGxcnjFnJpfyJEVpNsruo4DFFsYlq0dcAoUG3W05N8guDaJzuVRsH/s1600/P2202978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwYE89h7Jyx-9498GvJMXCgMvfO78CMi1qZ8_Vh1XaM7uZ9tvxtaP03if3qippSjGrPilsDXHPzh41mwlideSNzLNAGxcnjFnJpfyJEVpNsruo4DFFsYlq0dcAoUG3W05N8guDaJzuVRsH/s320/P2202978.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A half-made card made by Bik. Other assorted newspaper clippings. :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUSdU5U02am9YlPHNNe05ldUbSjU52Ke-i7SLPrIq0vmejnA6fHnvkdbLcLfYEbaCm3CsKMeEnGqhRzmiLVyyMyMteJLXwrFGatilNVMZbcspfmdX1QI4zGiCnDRjzbyf7wc8QiWSTihZ8/s1600/P2202981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUSdU5U02am9YlPHNNe05ldUbSjU52Ke-i7SLPrIq0vmejnA6fHnvkdbLcLfYEbaCm3CsKMeEnGqhRzmiLVyyMyMteJLXwrFGatilNVMZbcspfmdX1QI4zGiCnDRjzbyf7wc8QiWSTihZ8/s320/P2202981.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nanima's diary! :D *happyface*</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div><br />
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</div></div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-83238248115249020742011-12-21T01:45:00.000-08:002011-12-21T01:45:46.908-08:00Changes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
So many things have changed in the last two years. I don't feel the same. I don't behave in the same manner. And I don't have the same reactions to things. It's...weird. But I hope it's right. I mean, I feel alright. So, it must be right. Right?<br />
<br />
Oh, well, that's it.<br />
</div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-85439219588842329082011-11-30T20:47:00.000-08:002011-11-30T20:47:36.853-08:00She's here!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Where, she = Sun! :)<br />
<br />
Sun is back in Bombay for a month. There is going to be much frolicking about for the next month using this as an excuse to do everything that we've always wanted to do! :D<br />
<br />
She arrived on the 28th of November and obviously, Moon and I were there to receive her at the airport with flowers and welcome cards. Then, we spent the night at hers and the next morning, it was like the last two years didn't exist at all. Daddy, as usual, was screaming at us for random reasons and we were all 18 again, huddled up on a bed chatting with each other.<br />
<br />
I do look forward to spending more times like this. Going shopping, watching the twilight movie to ogle at shirtless Jacob, going to Matheran for the New Year and celebrating around a bonfire, baking cakes, going clubbing - just some of the things to be done together. :)</div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-83157206918116759152011-11-10T06:42:00.001-08:002011-11-10T06:42:41.760-08:00If I could be...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">If I could be a Greek Goddess, I would be Athena.<br />
<br />
If I could be a Disney Princess, I would be Pochahontas.<br />
<br />
If I could be an X-men, I would be Cyclops.<br />
<br />
If I could be a superhero, I would be Batman.<br />
<br />
If I could be a cartoon character, I would be Welma Flintstone.<br />
<br />
If I could be an Avatar, I would be Grace Augustine.<br />
<br />
If I could be a person in my real life, I would be my dad.<br />
<br />
If I were...<br />
<br />
If I were a Harry Potter character, I would be Luna Lovegood.<br />
<br />
If I were a Pride and Prejudice character, I would be Kitty Bennet.<br />
<br />
If I were a F.R.I.E.N.D.S. character, I would be Phoebe.<br />
<br />
If I were a Sex and the City character, I would be Carrie Bradshaw.<br />
<br />
If I were a character from the Shakespearean plays, I would be Lady Macbeth.<br />
<br />
If I could be a colour, I would be a rainbow. </div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-58597797298836106032011-11-06T22:13:00.000-08:002011-11-07T09:04:41.819-08:00Update<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">1. Still unemployed.<br />
<br />
2. Still a student doing one of the most unemployable degrees in the world once again - MA in Sanskrit Lit.<br />
<br />
3. Still the stupid girl who never learns from her previous mistakes.</div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-12731413325293323552011-08-01T05:49:00.000-07:002011-08-01T13:59:00.575-07:00Dear Young Self<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">#DearYoungSelf is trending on Twitter today.</span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">From "#DearYoungSelf, die." to "#DearYoungSelf, Don't bother with Engineering." - people tweeted everything they regretted doing or not doing. And people cracked jokes: "#DearYoungSelf, p<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px;">lease buy 100 kgs of onions and store it safely somewhere." to "#DearYoungSelf, create a website where everyone can network. It will work. Trust me." </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px;">I was thinking about what could I write. So many things came to me - don't come back from England topping the list, of course. But others, like "#DearYoungSelf, don't give that tailor that lovely dress. She'll screw it up." or "#DearYoungSelf, don't worry about those two extra pounds. You will regret not taking back that experience with you." But what did I finally tweet? "#DearYoungSelf, don't change."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px;">I used to be very happy. I used to be excited about things. Then, I was confused. Then, I was unhappy. And then, I was confused some more. I was scared. I was depressed. Now, I am more confused than ever. So much so, that I don't even know whether to be happy or unhappy. But, I know one thing. I shouldn't and no longer have place in my life for regrets. I don't wish to change anything. It's all okay. It's all a learning process. And a few years down the line, none of this will matter. It will seem silly that these little things seemed so big. All the things I believe(d) and do(did) make me what I am. Why would I want to do things differently just so that they could be perfect? No, I'd much rather just be me. And, like Kyra puts it, try to get back to the "happy post wali Star". :) I can't promise. But I can try. :)</span></div></div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-75425263094640559352011-07-27T05:41:00.000-07:002011-07-27T09:32:45.292-07:0030 Day Book Challenge: Day 7<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Most Underrated Book</span><br />
<br />
Okay finally, a topic which was difficult not because there are too many books and I had to choose one but because I don't think any book is underrated as such. I would have said Bridget Jones' Diary. But I don't think it's underrated at all. If anything, it has it's own proper place in the world of chick lit. It's the whole genre of chick lit that's underrated. Ditto graphic novels. Or any type of commercial fiction. Thus, it'd be unfair to point out just one book (I eat my own first sentence. :/) when there are so many great books in an underrated genre. So, I decided on this one from the "open category" of the genres:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://images.word-power.co.uk/images/product_images/9781407429359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="304" src="http://images.word-power.co.uk/images/product_images/9781407429359.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><b>The Enchantress of Florence </b>by<b> Salman Rushdie:</b> So many people I know hate Salman Rushdie and his works. But I happen to love him. The world thinks he is a genius. But, only for his Midnight's Children. That's all that they'll ever talk about. (Or, of course, Satanic Verses for its controversial quality.) But The Enchantress of Florence is really good. So many of my senses were evoked while reading this one. It is well-written, well-narrated, funny, sensual, magical and just generally, all other adjectives that are awesome. :D Unfortunately, it has been overshadowed by the presence of Midnight's Children. But I hope not forever.<br />
<br />
Bref, go read. :)<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">*This beautiful image is courtesy Google images, of course. :)</span></div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-33301168449672634082011-07-20T11:02:00.000-07:002011-08-09T02:28:09.257-07:00Genuine Koschans<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">1) What does one do when a certain ex-boyfriend is now feeling lonely and calls one up and one doesn't know how to react?<br />
<br />
2) Seeing as virginity for women is given so much importance in India, how many brides are really virgin when they get married?<br />
<br />
2.1) Seeing as the "first night" is given so much importance in India and made a big deal of, how many couples really, actually <strike>have sex</strike> make love after the long wedding day just because "it's the first night"?<br />
<br />
2.2) So, everybody wants their first time to be beautiful, wonderful and all those things. But of course it's never going to be. You'll fumble around and not know what the fuck to do. Besides, it'll pain like a bitch. (2.4: Is it the same for boys? I've heard it is but was never really convinced.) So, how do all these people call first times "beautiful"? And more importantly, why do they leave it to the first night of marriage? Are they so eager to start the fuckery that marriage is? (Pun totally not intended.)<br />
<br />
2.5) If a girl remains celibate for a long time (let's say 2 years) will it hurt all over again when she becomes sexually active again? [Okay, that's enough. Stop laughing and answer the question. I only ask coz needless to say I've never been in that situation.]<br />
<br />
3) Is it really everyone's mothers who are always the problem? All the cases I know of, including mine, the problems are always the mothers. In that case, why do the films always show the mothers as being this nice, selfless, doting women? (3.1: Are all mothers prejudiced and judgmental?)<br />
<br />
4) I know this question has been asked over and over again by a lot of people but really, what is it with people wanting their children's pictures as display pictures?! It's scary when their status updates are something like: "What the fuck do these in-laws think of themselves?" No. Kidding.<br />
<br />
5) Is money really the most important thing in the world? More important than your relations and ethics? And please, before your reflexes jump in and say "of course not!!" think for a moment and then answer. Because I think the answer might be yes for me.<br />
<br />
6) Whether we die in 2012 or not, can we please kill all the T.Vs?</div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8274701258290418140.post-11072075557688143552011-07-13T10:29:00.000-07:002011-07-13T20:17:56.896-07:0013th July, 2011<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Remember all those things I had said about Bombay being horrible? I take it all back. I take every single, little thing back right now.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">But, in return I want this senseless rubbish to stop! Why is Bombay targeted like this every time? No matter how much smaller than before, today's bomb-blasts brought back the horrifying memories of the 11/7 Mumbai train blasts and the 26/11 terrorist attacks on the Taj and other near-by areas. That icy, cold feeling around your pounding heart when you hear the news because you were supposed to be there but for some reason changed your plans. You don't know whether to be relieved or sad for the blasts. And then, the sudden slicing of a red-hot iron rod through your stomach when you realise that your friends hadn't changed the plan. The jitters running through you coz the phone lines are all jammed and down and you have no way to contact your family/ friends and know if they are safe. Everything comes rushing back to you. All the pictures, the news footage, the stories, the blogs you had read - everything comes back to you. And you are just left hyperventilating, wondering why nobody is replying.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And then, things calm down. Phone lines open. You hear from your family and friends. Everyone is safe. It's like a huge burden has been moved from your heart. You are fine. Still disturbed by all the other innocent people who died. But your life has not stopped. It's once again the 7:22 CST local the next day. As usual. A candle light protest walk, 2 months of heightened security and the same apathy and we are back where we began. 2 years and a new blast. New anxiety over family and friends' well-being, new out-rage towards the inhuman act/ our inability to deal with it, new candle-light walk, new articles about Bombay's resilience and spirit in the newspaper, newly heightened security, new politicians vying for a vote-bank and then finally, once again, the old apathy returning. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
And I am angry. I am SO angry that my city has to go through this time and again just coz Bombay's supposed to be awesome. I want to rip all the terrorists in the world to pieces. If you want to terrorize and kill people because they don't practice a certain religion or don't speak a certain language or don't bow down to your King or don't believe in Star Trek or whatever other absurd reason you might have, I don't think you have any rights to stay alive. In fact, I think you should die a slow, painful and horrible death that I wouldn't even wish for the biggest of my enemies.<br />
<br />
But more than that, I am sad at our reactions and our inability to do anything. When will we learn and do something about it? Every time something like this happens, I feel so small, insignificant and useless. What could I have done? What can I do so that this doesn't happen again? I still don't hate Bombay enough to sit back and not feel anything when it is in pain. I can't see it going through all this all over again. For the first time in the last 8 months, I am crying for a real reason outside of me. </div>Carpe Diem!http://www.blogger.com/profile/03054171142717375505noreply@blogger.com4