Chronicles Of Bridget Jones Reincarnate..

Ra.One

2011-11-04T22:06:00.000-07:00

I loved Ra.One so much that I want to work as a celebrity PRO or be involved with Bollywood and Hindi movies in some way. Has the world completely lost it? The horrible reviews I’ve been reading about Ra.One for over a week had almost put me off watching the movie altogether. I’m glad common sense prevailed and I shut out these so called self proclaimed “movie critics” and decided to form my own opinion.

When we can digest a Batman, Superman, Spiderman and an IronMan performing impossible and near death stunts on screen, why can’t we accept an Indian superhero? I wonder do these “critics” understand how difficult it is to direct a movie? I’ve dabbled with short film making briefly in college for five years (UG and PG) and let me tell you, it is hard! I’ve also dabbled with journalism briefly with a magazine in Bombay and the first rule of journalism is to be unbiased and not be a crusader/interpreter of information! Leave that to the aam junta. They have brains you know.

As a communication and media student, ex-journalist and amateur movie director it becomes my right and duty to enlighten the world about this wonderful movie called Ra.One. The animation is spectacular; you will have Goosebumps watching the beautiful and historic CST station falling apart. The make-up on G.One’s face was impeccable. SRK looked the part of a video game character who tumbled out of his gaming screen and into the real world.

I admit the relationship between G.One and the late video game creator’s son Prateek and G.One’s farewell scene with the boy looked right out of Terminator 2 : Judgement Day. But so what? Let me tell you as an amateur movie maker, the first rule of movie making if you are a newbie is to copy someone else’s style and eventually you will be able to create your own signature style, but that takes time and practice. So it is absolutely not wrong to take inspiration from previously made movies or styles of directing.

I cried twice during the movie. One when Shekhar Subramaniam is killed by Ra.One and his body is being taken in a wooden casket and second when G.One tells the little boy Prateek “I think I will miss you too” and his body forms little square boxes (once again inspired from the Terminator 2 villain’s body) and he vanishes into oblivion.

As for SRK speaking in Tamil and quite badly at that, I ask once again. So bloody what? Sense of humor, much? Don’t we south Indians also make fun of Hindi movies and Hindi speaking people every once in a while in our Malayalam, Telugu, Tamil and Kannada movies? Yes, we do.

Good job SRK, good job Ra.One team, you’ve done us Indians proud. We can hold our heads up high and tell the world that we have an Indian superhero now who looks cool, kicks butt with panache and I would (without hesitation) buy the action figure and put it up on my shelf along with miniatures of Batman, Spidey, IronMan and Superman.

The Sky is Purple Syndrome

2011-08-26T20:46:00.000-07:00

All fathers have this disease. This disease of opposing every full stop, semi colon, comma, exclamation mark and sentence that pours out of their daughter's mouths. Around the world every little girl is born dreaming of her daddy as daddy the hero, daddy the best, daddy the cutest and daddy the easier half of the parents to bend. But as that little girl grows up so does her daddy and sadly they grow apart. Daddy dearest turns into this argumentative monster who is just waiting to tear you apart with his sharp tongue.

Little Girl : "Daddy, I think the sky is blue"
Daddy : "Absolutely not. It's purple"

Little Girl : "Daddy, do I look round today?"
Daddy : "I think so, yes. Lose some weight"

I'm that little girl and that's my daddy. We fight, till we turn blue in the face, every minute of every hour of every damn day. I'm tired. I'm done fighting. I'm officially hanging up my boots. This morning I saw a little girl sitting behind her father on a bike and she had her hand placed firmly on her father's mouth. I think it's safe to say that every little girl around the world is born to hen-peck her father. And what does this equate to? A hand pecked husband and terrified children.

I blame fathers for women turning into nags and hen-peckers. Our old man gets on our nutcase and argues with us for random reasons which in turn builds an impression in our minds that all men are mad. Sorry future hubby and children. I live with mad dad.

Going the Distance

2011-05-23T19:08:00.000-07:00

Mumbai. A city I’ve grown to love because the man I love lives there. Period! Three years ago I left home, didn’t take up my first amazing job offer and slogged it out in an alien city doing a job I hated – all for the sake of love. I would never let my children be so stupid, that I guarantee you dear reader. I was stupid; I don’t know what I was thinking. But my stupidity paid off. I am the happiest woman in the whole world now.

I had a refreshing five day break in Mumbai the past week – my millionth trip to the city by the way and on the flight enroute Mumbai, guess which movie I saw? ‘Going the Distance’ It’s a rom-com about a couple who try to make their long distance relationship work. Relationships are a bitch. It either fucks you over completely or makes you feel like a billion bucks. Throw long distancing to that equation and it’s a living nightmare. Poopie and I (Yes, we call each other Poopie. Don’t ask how. I don’t remember the details too well either) have spent so much time apart that when we are together for the first two days I’m a little disoriented. It takes time for it to sink in that I’m finally in a functional adult relationship and it’s not ending. Ever! Even if we have the worst fights, I know we’re for life.

I’ve had my share of non-relationships. I’ve met the slimey kind, the stinky kind, the musician kind, the smart alec kind, the pervert kind, the God complex kind and the just plain jerk kind. Poopie’s not perfect either, but he’s perfect for me. He accepts me with all my flaws which would include (1) my violent mood swings, (2) my not so great social skills (he is super friendly and has an army of best friends) (3) my perennial hunger and then guilt for binging just to name a few.

I hate leaving Mumbai and I hate (right up to the bottom of my toes) leaving him behind. Without Poopie my life is in shades of grey. I hate dolling up. I lose interest in food. I hate just being happy. I’m tired of missing him and I’m tired of long-distancing.

We have a three year plan which I don’t want to mention now. The ball is in motion and we’re chasing it. Once we get there I will blog about it. It will be titled, “The Victory Dance”.

High on Fresh Air and Transformers

2011-04-16T20:18:00.000-07:00

I've been home for the past two days and it is SHEER bliss! Who would've thought that going back to college after a two year break of work, was going to be as hectic and stressful as being a professional? I have a little free time on my hands now before my Corporate Internship begins. I have finished my first year of Masters in Public Relations, by the way. Just one more year to go and i'm free free free!

I've officially become a healthy couch potato. Healthy because I don't keep stuffing my face as I sit in front of the idiot box. I swim, i run, i walk and am well on the way to becoming to my old skinny self again. Plus, I've got this sexy new hair-cut. The point is, I'm just generally happy these days, must be all that "post exercise natural chemical" stuff pumping up my brain. (Do we have a doctor in the house to point out what those chemicals are, so that I sound less vague!)

Anyway, moving on to the subject at hand - Transformers. This is the second time I'm blogging about them. The first post is here (in case you're curious):- http://bonappetite.blogspot.com/2008/02/transformers.html

I love Optimus Prime and his Autobots, especially Bumblebee. He is just SO cute! And when i see them fighting with the Decepticons i just want to pinch their metal cheeks. The Autobots are huge metal toys that are every little girl's dream come true. I've had my eye on all the talking action figures for quite a while now. Mommy has promised to get me the whole set one birthday at a time.

It's so easy to forget reality while watching movies like this and wish for something fantastic to happen to you as well. How easy it would be to ditch my boring classes and become Sam Witwicky just for one day. All hail Micheal Bay! You're a genius sir for bringing alive these cartoon characters.

No One Killed Jessica

2011-02-03T19:19:00.000-08:00

1999, I was 12 years old. Old enough to understand what was happening in the world around, but still too young to fathom and understand the gravity of a situation where I was not personally involved. I had heard the name "Jessica Laal" float around me for years after that, but it still didn't sink in. Then I heard of a movie titled "No One Killed Jessica" starring Rani Mukherjee and Vidya Balan and I just had to see it. I've been meaning to write this post ever since I came back home that night from the movie hall.

For 136 minutes that night, I felt someone slapping me hard on my face and I felt anger and hatred towards the shooter (a spoilt brat politician's son whose language would put a prostitute to shame), the witnesses of the murder (the ridiculous page 3 junta who watched the episode unfold in front of their eyes and a good for nothing small time actor whose movies I refuse to watch anymore). She was 23 years old! 23! Thats a whole year younger than I am right now. How could all the witnesses and the legal system in this wretched country have denied someone so young justice? I am sending up prayers to the lord everyday to send them all to a place worse than hell.

I googled extensively on what exactly happened on that fateful night and I discovered that much of what was shown in the movie was accurate. Kudos to NDTV for taking on the "Fight for Jessica Lall" SMS campaign. It took seven years and one news channel to push forward the cause and put pressure on our corrupt legal system to do something about this heinous crime.

My respect for journalists grew even more and my seven month journalism stint came flashing back in front of my eyes all over again. I wondered whether I'd made the biggest mistake of my life by stepping away from that field of work which could have been my path of life right now.

I cried along with Vidya in the last scene of the movie, when the journalist played by Rani informed her "Sabrina you have won!" The Delhi High Court had FINALLY (only after intense media and public pressure) decided to conduct the proceedings of the case on a fast track with daily hearings over 25 days.

You will stay on in our minds and hearts forever Jessica. I hope wherever you are, you have found your peace.

My Apple iPod

2011-01-13T19:55:00.000-08:00

Ours was an arranged match, a blind alliance. She entered my life early last year and my heart skipped a few beats when i held her on my palm. She was glossy, shiny, black, small and super cute. For me, it was love at first sight. I knew I had to take care of her and educate her musically. She soon became my best friend, soul sister and confidante. She understood my anxieties and had a tune for all my moods.

And then I committed a terrible crime. I left her behind on a rushed holiday and for six months I missed her terribly. Waking up every morning for a jog, seemed like an ordeal without her. My soul was filled with a void. Nothing could replace her. I tried finding solace in my mobile phone's FM radio stations, but I began missing my iPod even more.

I was finally able to reunite with her three weeks ago and I apologized profusely to her tiny face for neglecting her. My life was complete again and then something happened. I tugged her USB cable out of my laptop while she was charging without hitting on the "Eject" option. Hours later I tried turning her on, but she remained motionless. I tried for fifteen heart-breaking minutes and nothing happened. She was dead and I was responsible.

I cried for a long time, wondering what to do. I had lost her again. I finally mustered enough courage to explain what happened to a tech junkie and he laughed on hearing me sob hysterically. He had the older version of my baby and apparently the same thing had happened to him as well. He asked me to keep two buttons pressed for six seconds and then i saw a faint appley smile light up her face.

I thanked the stars and the boy who saved my iPod's life. A special mention of the person who brought this tiny piece of eternal joy into my life, my big brother Swaroop Mohanlal or better known as Swaroo Schettan.

My Pink Niece

2011-01-07T19:02:00.000-08:00

I've never held a new born baby in my hands, infact I'd never seen a new born baby in flesh and blood. So when I saw my fully pregnant sister, I was bouncing around like a bunny, excited to bits. Each time i touched her tummy, the tiny human being inside gave a kick sending goosebumps up my skin.

The whole family had flown down from different parts of the globe to welcome the next generation. The pressure was on the mommy to be. Each day we would go to the hospital and tell her, "Please make it happen today, I have a flight to catch on the 2nd or the 4th". Each time she saw me she would tell me her gastronomic desire for the next day and I would promptly bring it for her. I presume she imagined a big roshogulla walking into her hospital room, each time she saw me. She requested Pizzas and Burgers from a restaurant called 'Ambrosia' on New Years Eve and the very next day the baby was born. I'd like to secretly believe that she had that baby thanks to my Ambrosia trip.

On the hot sweaty afternoon of New Year's day, when the family and I were lolling around wondering whether to sleep or eat, we got a phone call from the hospital saying that the baby was born at 3.13pm. We finally got to see her at 4.30pm. She looked soo tiny, fragile and helpless that I was scared to even hold her. When I finally mustered up enough courage to take her in my arms, a single tear drop flowed down my cheek and then I understood the meaning of being a kunjamma.

I lived in a village for three days and two nights!!

2010-10-22T10:24:00.000-07:00

A couple of months ago, I had come for an interesting orientation by our HOD ma’am on M.A Public Relations. I hung on to every word ma’am had to say about my next two academic years, I knew I had to bag this course right there and then. I vaguely heard her mentioning the words “village”, “saree”, “interior Tamilnadu” and so on. I figured, that must be a project I would have to do in my last semester of college. I was mistaken. In less than 4 months, here I am, humbled by the generosity of sixty small huts in a village near Pondicherry, called Nadukuppam.

A week before our visit began a shopping frenzy for medicines, dance-props and mosquito repellants. Monday, the 13th of September found all of us in pitch darkness, waiting in college, for our teachers and transport. We were all sleepy and excited. We jumped onto the bus along with our teachers and promptly fell asleep. We woke up, in time for breakfast and went back to sleep again. We reached Nadukuppam by 11 AM. We were greeted by Ms Joe and Ms Parvathy who were going to be our mentors at Nadukuppam.

The first sight that we saw, as soon as we stepped off the bus, was a roadside bus stand with a whole family inside – babies crawling around, women cooking food and water seeping through on all sides, the family was huddled in a small corner of the sheltered bus stand. We gulped in disbelief, wondering what we were getting into.

We were taken to Nadukuppam Government High School by Ms Joe and Ms Parvathy. Our three day stay was going to be in this school. Our bed was the floor; we were sharing it with all its existing residents, namely grasshoppers, scorpions, spiders and other creepy-crawlies. Our next big concern was the toilet. We ran towards them and heaved in relief when we saw four of them one next to the other. Our relief was short-lived, as we soon discovered a huge snake pit with a family of resident snakes, right next to our toilets. We sent up prayers and tackled our toilet business and ran as fast as we could.

We just about settled in to our common hall, when Ms Joe and Ms Parvathy called us for a small brief about the village. They told us, that they were trying to help the children of the village who had failed their classes 10 and 12, by conducting stitching classes for them. They were also instrumental in building the common room, of the school where we were going to sleep during our stay.

Soon after, we set out to our assigned streets, along with our teachers and our survey partners. The mini-van dropped us all off, one by one to our respective streets. My survey partner Evelyn and I, hopped off the bus; bottle of water, umbrella, pens and questionnaires in hand.

Our first household was of a newly married couple. The bride was all of 20 and was busy watching Sun Music, she greeted us with a shy smile as we explained the purpose of our visit. We began our rapid fire session and she answered patiently to all our queries. Before long her husband, who was a petrol pump attendant, joined us and he began participating in our conversation as well. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other, as is expected of all newly married couples. It was a little distracting, as the heat was getting to us and we had a tight target to meet. We thanked them for their time at the end of our thirty odd questions and set out to interview another family. We noticed right in the beginning of our tour of the village, that all the households had television sets and the satellite dishes placed outside their homes. Some looked even bigger than the huts they lived in. We found this quite amusing; we realized that their priorities were a little skewed. We discovered that none of them had a toilet; they all went to the nearby ponds for an early morning job, but entertainment just a click of a button away.

Almost too soon, it was time to go back our base camp for lunch, Evelyn and I had just completed six families in total, while the other teams in our class had done ten families and above. We panicked a little, on discovering these statistics, but kept motivating each other, that we would meet our target as well. After a quick lunch, we got back on field again and continued our survey. We met family after family, who asked us who we were, what we were doing in the village and why we were asking them such probing questions about their caste, incomes and educational qualifications. They swept their porches clean for us and invited us into their homes, without hesitation. They posed eagerly for our photographs along with their cute children. Day 1 of our survey had come to an end. Our target of 20 questionnaires seemed like an impossible dream. I slept fitfully that night, between my friends.

I woke up the next morning thanks to the desperate rumbles of my tummy. I looked around for somebody to wake up. One of my classmates’ finally woke up, in the same dire plight and we took off in the wee hours of the morning, torches in hand. I felt a wave of relief wash over me, as I walked back to our common hall and found more people sitting up straight with messy hair and swollen eyes. Priya, Shruti and I decided to rush to the washrooms before it got too crowded. We discovered that the washroom closest to us was clogged and over-flowing with water.

I almost burst into tears at this point, when Shruti announced, “Priya and Gayatri, stand behind this wall and hand me mugs of water, I’m bathing”. We bathed that morning with six mugs of water each, it was an exciting and a once in a lifetime experience!

Evelyn and I had lots more luck on Day 2, while filling out questionnaires. We met our Day 2 and Day 1 target and we were overjoyed. We had picked up speed from Day 1, learnt from our mistakes and kept motivating each other. My pink umbrella didn’t help us much, as we both got burnt through and through and Evelyn kept muttering “Ouch” under her breath every five minutes, as I kept poking her on the head with my umbrella spokes. We interviewed a few “rich” families on Day 2, we went inside households that looked like mini palaces in the middle of nowhere with crude looking sofas, four walls fully cemented and children speaking to us in English.

The night of Day 2 was special for me, as I heaved a sigh of relief on a job well done. I was so happy to be paired with Evelyn; she was a gem of a person and a wonderful team-player. My friends and I whispered under the sheets, late into the night, until one of us fell asleep.

Day 3 greeted us all with a renewed sense of hope and joy. Our stay here was almost complete, our targets were much smaller for the day and we would finally go back home to our urban lives. I shared my washroom with six ugly looking frogs that morning. I kept eyeing them, worrying about when they would decide to jump on my head.

We set out onto the field without breakfast that morning. Evelyn and I walked through huge fields to get to a street called “Ameri” which was quite a distance from our base camp. Our teachers dropped us off, at the beginning of the field. I felt like a Bollywood actress, walking through green fields, but my bubble was quickly burst as I slipped and fell into some slushy brown water.

I ignored my damp uncomfortable clothes and focused on my small target in hand. We interviewed seven families in Ameri and walked back to our bus. We had a quick breakfast and continued our survey again. Evelyn and I interviewed very interesting people that morning. We met a Candy-seller, who spoke Tamil, Hindi, English and Punjabi. He had left his native town to earn a living in Nadukuppam. We met a college professor who disapproved of my handwriting and informed me proudly that all his children were working and were post graduates.

Our lunch on Day 3 was the happiest. We had all met our targets and kept hugging each other. I kept counting my questionnaires over and over to make sure, that this was all not a dream. Nadukuppam village, has changed me, I will never take for granted the luxuries my parents have showered me with.

(Photograph taken by Evelyn Charles)

Anjaana Anjaani

2010-10-06T19:01:00.001-07:00

It's the morning after and I still can't stop smiling over the movie. Ranbir Kapoor, looked H-O-T and I wished for him to be mine. There were a few minutes of him shirtless, which made my blood boil and my eyes pop. Move over Hollywood actors and all the other so called "yummy" Bollywood hunks - RK kicks all your asses! That chiseled body, those pink lips, that height, those soul searching eyes.. what more could a woman want in a man?

From the start to the finish, he was a real pleasure to watch, the plot was cute, funny, moving and fairly realistic. I could empathize with Priyanka's heartbroken character, over a cheating boyfriend. We've all been through that at some point. So when she and RK kiss for just one scene in the movie and she wakes up the next morning and tells him, that she feels she has cheated over her ex, I could understand. Men can really be jerks at times and the healing process takes forever.

RK played the adorable "sacrificing his love, for her happiness" bit, perfectly. I loved the last few minutes of the movie, when he proposes to her, in that unorthodox and really endearing fashion, it made me sigh internally and I made a silent prayer to God, wishing for something similar to happen to me as well.

RK + PC = eye candy for both sexes, do you really need any other reason to watch this movie? Go, go and GO!

Hey, Soul Sister - Train

2010-08-22T21:07:00.000-07:00

It's been a loooong long time, since a song has struck a chord within my heart's blood oozing chord. I'm left smiling and giddy headed for hours after I hear this song, I wake up every morning, rush to my laptop, tune into You-tube and hit this song, which is always queued up, waiting to be played, and then it loops for about an hour and half, roughly.

From the start to the finish it's an absolute masterpiece. The first verse goes :

"Your lipstick stains on the front lobe of my left side brains
I knew I wouldn't forget you, and so I went and let you blow my mind
Your sweet moon beam, the smell of you in every single dream I dream
I knew when we collided, you're the one I have decided who's one of my kind"

Cheeky, naughty and cute all rolled into one. I wonder what was running through the band's mind, when they composed and penned this song. Was it for one of their girlfriends/wives/fiancées? If yes, they have just upped the games for all boyfriends universally!

The perfect song to wipe out all your blues and sorrows, in under four minutes, guaranteed. Kick out all those comfy eating fatty foods, and turn up your stereos children. This song is here to stay.

Madras Gymkhana Club

2010-07-02T19:22:00.000-07:00

The MGC has been my playground for the past 13 years. To outsiders, it may appear to be an extremely snooty club and truth be told, it is snooty. When Thermal and a Quarter played here, the crowd sniffed and ordered another stiff drink from the waiters. When I played with my little cousins on the gym-lawns after 9pm one night, I was shooed away by one of the waiters and my parents were told 'no children allowed on the lawns post 9pm, please'. I still remember going for a New Year's Eve bash with mum-dad to the club and dad had announced to the reception staff that I was over 16 years old. Not knowing the significance of this white lie, I announced quite loudly, "But daddy, I am only 14".

How a club started by the Brits, maintained it's Brit culture for 126 years, is a wonder. Men are allowed inside only with a collared shirt and shoes, no one is allowed on the club premises with their workout clothes on, the last dinner order is taken at 10.30pm and so on.

The waiters haven't changed in all these years and before I can even sit down to place my dinner order, they have a steaming spicy hot plate of chilli chicken dry, ready for me. The food here is fantastic but a little dull, when you've been a regular for 13 years. Of late they have been making a few changes to the menu with regard to continental food and the drinks, which is a relief!

The pool uncle rings his bell at 7.30pm sharp for the kids to scramble out and even today I am asked to leave. I suppose I never grew up for him, in his eyes I will always be a kid and that is a nice feeling. The pool is brilliant, super huge and really well-maintained, you can see right upto the last tile on the watery floor. Many times, I have this eerie feeling that I am being followed by an invisible being in the deep waters and who knows, maybe I am. A restless Brit, may have decided never to leave the pool and I can't blame him/her, I would probably do the same, if I were in his/her shoes.

I grew up gorging on the warm Naans and Nut and Date tart puddings, playing in the old park next to the pool and reading plenty of Mills and Boons from the library. I will never get tired of this club, it is my second home.

Iron Man 2

2010-06-01T10:52:00.000-07:00

To start off with, all those who think that Iron Man 2 could not live up to its predecessor, step away from this blog post. Number One: An Iron Man movie can never and I mean NEVER be awful. Number Two: Have you seen the bum and face on Robert Downey Junior?

Iron Man 2 had plenty more badass action scenes, than the first. Downey Junior makes his audience flinch one minute and then “ooh and aaah” the next. For all the feminists who can’t stand male superhero movies and believe that only men can kick some mean butt, fret not; for this movie has Scarlett Johansson playing an ubercool agent, who goes undercover as Iron Man’s personal secretary in training. She has her share of fight scenes – very few sadly, but VERY appealing – she has my thumbs up to act in Elektra 2.

This movie dives a little deeper into the life of the man behind the iron clad shield. He is a wild irresponsible wild parties throwing narcissistic sloth, but is there more to him than just that? And in comes the villain of this piece to answer this question. A physician named Ivan Vanko who believes, that his father was wronged by the Iron Man’s father – Howard Stark. He constructs an arc reactor and a crude suit of his own, along with whip-like energy weapons. Can the Iron Man beat this revenge seeking scientist who is out to destroy the Stark legacy?

To add fuel to the fire, the Iron Man is slowly dying. He is being poisoned by the palladium core in his arc reactor (or in simple terms the shiny blue thingy stuck on his chest), and all attempts to find a substitute element have failed.

Can our sexy knight in shining red armor (with a nice butt) overcome these odds and emerge victorious? You don’t have to rack your brains too much to answer this one; I think I hear the three year old baby next door, screaming the answer out to you. Go watch it. And if you have watched it already, watch it again!

PS: I almost forgot to add, the icing on the cake, the chocolate sauce on the Belgian waffle, the stir fried chicken in the Manchurian – Tony Stark and his former personal assistant Pepper Potts kiss. Finally!! I had to wait two WHOLE movies for that to happen. I smiled and smiled till I could smile no more.

The Crown - Residency Towers

2010-05-20T19:09:00.000-07:00

Mom and dad's 33rd wedding anniversary was a much thought about affair for the past three weeks, we had decided to go to the rooftop restaurant of the Accord Metropolitan, but thanks to the never ending cyclone Laila, our plan was washed out.

We tried reserving a table at the GRT on D-day to discover that they had been fully booked as well. Disappointed, we continued to rack our tummies for inspiration. Before dad could say, "Lets go to Besant Nagar for a burger", the thought struck us. Why not Residency Towers? We had tried their rooftop restaurant for my 23rd birthday and their lip smacking buffet serving restaurant Main Street on a random greedy afternoon. The tummies had spoken, the verdict was out. We would try The Crown, their Multi-Cuisine restaurant which is located right next to their rooftop restaurant.

I began a countdown starting with T minus 12 hours, I was super excited. The three of us decked up like Christmas trees and made our way towards the lap of luxury. On reaching our destination I was a wee bit conscious of my Mary-Jane Chinese Silk outfit, mum and I received a lot of curious stares. Point to note : Chennaites stare.. a LOT, go figure! It doesn't matter if you are in your Calvin Klein chaddis or an exquisite Saree, people here love to ogle.

We clambered into the lift, which took us to their highest floor and into their Multi-Cuisine restaurant, The Crown. I opened the very last page of the Menu card and eyed the Dessert menu. I always plan my meals backward, I believe that Starters and Main Course must always compliment the Dessert, else you are bound to have a dis-satisfactory gastronomic experience.

We ordered a Panner starter, called the Tiranga. The dish had the colours of the Indian flag - three soft juicy pieces of Panner were served to us, in Saffron, White and Green.

For main course mom settled for a Vegetable Lasagne, which was dipped in a creamy rich tomato, white and cheesy sauce stuffed generously with vegetables. I am a Vegan-hater, but this dish would make all you non-grass eaters, have a re-think.

I ordered Golden Crumb Fried Prawns, which was accompanied by a spicy red dip, lettuce leaves and mashed potatoes, each bite took me straight up to heaven and back. The Prawn pieces were massive and crisp, each bite had a power packed CRUNCH to it.

Dad, the non experimental one amongst us ordered Rotis and a Chicken Kheema curry, I almost decided to give this a pass, but the Kheema repeatedly whispered my name in a soft sultry voice, until i gave in. It was rich, wonderfully flavored and had just the right amount of spice.

We moved on to my favorite course of the meal - Dessert!! *joyous tummy flip-flops*. The Tiramisu and Carrot Halwa had our names written all over it. The Carrot Halwa had a very acute Milkmaid and Ghee tinge to it, very melt in your mouth and tasty as hell. My only complaint would be that the quantity was too little. As for the Tiramisu, the folks seemed to relish it, I'm not a huge fan of the sweet, so I will make no comments.

The service was pleasant and friendly, the waiters didn't hang around our tables and they served each course slowly. We had enough time to soak in the lovely ambiance of the Crown, we watched in wonder at the huge Dome ceiling, which gave the restaurant it's name and the hundreds of soft chandelier lights that hung from the ceilings and walls.

All in all, a night fit for the Kings and Bhadrans, of the world. *big burpy grin*

Nonsensical teenagers

2010-05-07T00:46:00.000-07:00

It's that time of the year again, the time when college admissions begin, the time to dust off the cobwebs inside our brains and get cracking. Last week my mom and I headed over to a city college, to buy application forms for the course of my liking.

There was a never-ending queue, as long as a Paper Roast dosai at the counter and the sun was beating down our backs mercilessly turning our brains to scrambled eggs and our bodies to salted sugar syrup.

We noticed women of all shapes and sizes, dressed up and dressed down. Girls huddled around excitedly, talking loudly into cellphones, adjusting their bags over their shoulders and some flirting with their respective boyfriends. We waited for about forty minutes in the snaking sea of bodies. All was well, until two annoying nonsensical teenagers (NT) decided to park themselves behind mom and me. Our agony began seconds later.

The NT conversation:
Tall NT : Dude, this is like so cool!
Short NT : Yeah, like sick cool.

Tall NT : If i get into day college, I'll chill at Mocha, if i get into evening college I'll get smashed at Zaras
Short NT : Super sick! *hi fives*

Tall NT : So where else have you applied to?
Short NT : Oh, just some colleges in Bombay and Bangalore.
Tall NT : Bombay? Then you can meet Shahid Kapoor and forget college.
Short NT : That was the plan!

Tall NT : Oh look, my freakin' dad is standing there.
Short NT : Su-weet, he is ahead of us in this godforsaken line, he will probably get the application form before us.

Tall NT : Hey! Guess what? This dumb college has a dress rule, only kurtis and long tops allowed
Short NT : Eeyew! For real? I don't think I want to study here then.

Trust me blindly, when I say, you don't want to hear the rest. Girl talk is absolutely 100% fun, as long as it is not announced to the rest of the world in eardrum shattering decibels. There were two old men, standing ahead of us in the line and they farted a few times, probably in response to the heinous comments the pair of NT were passing.

Mom was scandalized as well at the end of these forty minutes. Her exact words were "Kids these days" and an angry pout. Point to note : Mom NEVER gets scandalized! She has heard and seen the worst of things, thanks to a rough army lifestyle she had, being married to my dad.

As for me, I remembered vaguely being a nonsensical teenager myself, but our generation was far more intellectual *sheepish grin*

Six Weeks

2010-04-26T19:10:00.000-07:00

February 9th, 2010 changed my life forever. From a bike-lover i turned into a bike phobic. The day started out just like any other, an early morning calorie burning session in the gym was on the cards. I revved up my baby confidently for one last time, for the next two months and hit the road. I drove fast as usual, with the chilly 6AM morning air, hitting against my body. As i neared my destination, disaster struck, I lost control of my bike and went skidding against the hard tarred road for a good five minutes.

I lay there in shock for a few seconds, until someone lifted me up. I could see blood all over me, a huge gash on my right leg, cuts and bruises on my hands and legs and a limp lifeless dull thudding on my right hand. I knew right away something was wrong.

A flurry of activity followed, and I finally reached Malar hospital where the doctors confirmed that I had dislocated and fractured my right shoulder and had a ligament tear on my right foot. The medicines and the sharp water they used to clean my wounds stung and I clung onto my mommy's hand and screamed with all my might, until she whispered in my ear that everything would be alright soon.

I was taken into surgery shortly after, my FIRST surgery ever! And it had a fancy name - Key Hole. I was petrified to say the least, I repeatedly asked the doctors if I would feel any more pain and whether I would be awake on the operation table. I wished I was in Seattle Grace Hospital, where at least I could have drooled at Mc Dreamy and asked Meredith why she was so wannabe Goth all the time. No such luck, though. Doctors are boring and artificially cheery people who try to make you believe that life is peachy.

Three hours of surgery later, I felt my immobile right hand, which hurt even more as I tried to free myself of all the tubes running through my body. I had two metal rods stuck all the way through my right shoulder up to my elbow.

I was officially handicapped for the next two months. If it weren't for my Mom and ayyah, I'm sure I would have been dead by now. I could barely walk thanks to my bloated ligament torn right leg and I could do nothing all day except for lolling around on bed.

I hated the tight belt which restricted my body movements and kept my hand tightly in place. Each visit to the doctor was demoralizing and humiliating - I looked like crap, I felt like crap and I just wanted to be someone else. Someone without a broken shoulder, who didn't have a tight band around her all the time.

The only silver lining to this dark cloud was my poopie coming home to see me. My dad, spoke about him for days on end and my mother approved as well. It felt nice watching him being at home and my parents lapping up every word of what he had to say. The icing on the cake was when he touched both their feet - i knew by the look on their faces, that they were in love with him too :)

Five years of riding, umpteen accidents and a still healing broken arm later, I bid goodbye to you, my dear old Scooty Pep. I will miss you dearly, but our time has come to an end. I wish things were different for you and me.

Twilight..

2010-02-07T08:31:00.000-08:00

I've been a Twilight series fan for the past 10 months. I own all four, have read them all and loved every word typed down in those huge black books.

Vampires have fascinated me, ever since i was 10 years old - thanks to the back then popular TV Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

I've waited my whole life for literature and movies like the Twilight Series, it just makes all my dreams come true. I am sooo happy, merely looking at Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn.

I finished the first book in four days, the second in two days, the third seemed to stretch on forever because the whole Jacob Black v/s Edward Cullen thing got a tad bit boring and Breaking Dawn in three days, it was the perfect finale to this wonderful story.

Naturally, I've been dying to see the movies as well and I couldn't until 5 minutes ago. I picked up the Twilight DVD from Landmark yesterday and finally saw the movie right now.

The movie was everything I imagined it to be, in fact, it was even better! Watching Edward run faster than the wind, carrying Bella on his back, watching them kiss for the first time, watching them fall in love with each other, soaking in the faces of all the characters whose names I can say like the back of my hand - Carlisle and Esme, Alice and Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett, Bella and Edward, was a visual and sensory treat!

What a movie, what a hunk! I love vampires - I love Edward Cullen, I wish I could take Bella's place for just one day.

Paa..

2010-02-06T08:43:00.000-08:00

I was a little skeptical about watching this movie, because everyone I know who saw the movie, gave me bad reviews, telling me that it was not their money's worth. I saw it 1 hour back in the Madras Race Club and I disagree with all these people.

Mr Bachchan as the 12 year old Progeria affected boy, Auro was a real treat. I completely forgot for the whole 2 hours and 15 minutes that he was Bollywood legend Amitabh Bachchan, because he pulled off the role so well. Running away each time he saw the little girl approach him, laughing and giggling cutely at the drop of a hat, passing witty innocent remarks every 5 minutes - how could one not fall in love with Auro?

I wished I could meet Auro just once, to just give him a huge hug and tell him that he is special.

I felt his mother's pain at the last scene in the movie, where she sits in the rain hugging her newly married spouse, crying her heart out.

This movie not just tugs at the strings of our heart, it also teaches us a lesson. It's not the quantity of time that you spend on earth that makes you leave a mark on people's lives, it's the quality of the life that you lead which makes people remember you long after you're gone.

There is an Auro buried inside all of us, let's free him and experience plain, simple, undiluted joy.

Sherlock Holmes..

2010-02-03T09:07:00.000-08:00

I have to be honest, before I start this review, I am not really a Holmes fan. Infact I even hate the televised episodes with Jeremy Brett, which my boyfriend watches religiously via his LAN.

The only reason I went for this movie was for Robert Downey Junior. I've loved him right from his Ally Mcbeal days to his Iron Man stardom - the man is interesting. He is not a drop dead gorgeous beefy hunk of meat, but he is cute-ish and his facial expressions are amazing. You could call him the Shahrukh Khan of Hollywood, minus the lover boy, sob sob roles.

I can say without a doubt in my mind that no one could have suited the role of Holmes better than Downey Junior. He captures the essence of the character perfectly - logical, analytical, eccentric, mad, brutally honest and hilariously funny.

Jude Law as Holmes' faithful sidekick, Watson was the perfect icing on the cake, he complimented Holmes in every possible way, by being the saner, less eccentric other half.

The plot was engrossing and excellent - the way Holmes tackles each mystery is simply awesome.

I wait eagerly for the second part of the movie now and I shall pay more attention to the Jeremy Brett series henceforth.

Amazon.com

2010-01-29T05:22:00.000-08:00

I had no idea what Amazon.com was until June 28th 2009, I prepped myself well for the interview, by brushing up on a few known facts about the company. The added bonus was the location - same complex as my gym and 15 minutes from home. It was reason enough for me to take up the job.

For the first one month, i soaked up all the food coupons worth a little more than a grand and the pick up and drop cab rides.

By the second month, i made some friends - friends, who I never really thought I'd get close to.

Today was my last day at Amazon and some of those friends who I thought I would never get close to, became my close confidants and best friends.

I'm sad today - sad about leaving a lovely organization full of beautiful people. I was thrown a fantastic farewell with the works - cake (which ended up more on my face and less inside my tummy), noise, gifts and a fairly huge gathering of boys and girls.

I was overwhelmed with bittersweet feelings, I cried at 4:58 dot, in front of one of my colleagues and walked away slowly, out the doors of a company I can't call mine anymore.

I'll miss you Amazon.com, you will always stay close to my heart.

Inspiration..

2009-12-04T16:13:00.000-08:00

My words have run dry - i can write no more. Five months, five days and five hours since I've last written something, ANYTHING, i truly believe in.

I spoke to my classmate Sowmya, of three years from my college days for one and half hours yesterday and it felt bloody damn good.

We spoke about everything and nothing. In typical her and me style, we started with all the useless topics at first - finally I took a step back and said "Whoa whoa whoa! Hold up! Tell me first - what are you doing with your life? Are you working, studying, married?"

About less than a minute was spend on the "BIG LIFE GOAL" topic, before we moved on to nonsense again - and what lovely nonsense it was. I missed her and all the others who i called my classmates and friends.

I told Sowmya about the friends I miss and how lonely I am. Colleagues at work can never be best friends and life long buddies, because work tensions drive you into becoming work nemesis at some point.

"But don't you have a boyfriend?", she asked. I replied "Yes, *5 minute rant on how we met* but only friends, can fill the void that friends leave behind".

My body and soul are still bursting from the happiness I experienced last night. It doesn't matter who you've become, or if your job sucks or if you cannot do what you love anymore - just pick up that telephone and punch in ANY number of someone who you shared innocent fun memories with and you'll be happy in no time.

I miss you class of 2008 - Bsc Electronic Media. Where did all that time go? Why have we all drifted?

I miss you Vasavi - my best friend.
I miss you Ritu - my wise, gyaan guru friend.
I miss you Pwe bwe - my cute, ever helping friend.
I miss you Vani - my Jungli Janwar friend.
I miss you Megha and Archana - (we can still meet, and we just met two months back, so I miss you a little less, don't take offense please :P)

Hancock..

2009-10-17T05:13:00.000-07:00

I know it's a little too late review this movie, I don't remember if I already have, but here goes.

Hancock - not your average superhero, with screaming fans. A crude bum, perennially stoned and drunk, landing on expensive porches and making a mess of the planet, wherever he goes.

Hancock's life takes a U-turn when he meets a PR dude, named Ray. He drills into Hancock's head, the meaning of a superhero - tight spandex pants, charisma, manners, etiquette. Ray tames him into a comic book superhero.

The reason I love this movie so much, is because, Hancock is the first superhero flick that portrays superheroes as mortal beings who are lonely, sad, flawed and misunderstood.

Being the wife/girlfriend of a superhero comes with a price. This is one cliche the movie, didn't let go. Leaving this common thread, everything else about the plot is unique.

I've always had a superhero girlfriend/wife fantasy. But after seeing this movie, I'm glad my boyfriend is an average joe guitarist *chuckles*

I don't think I have the strength or the willpower to be immortal and witness the various stages of mankind.

Born Confused..

2009-06-14T03:52:00.001-07:00

Born Confused, is a delightful read by Tanuja Desai Hidier. You could call it a chick-lit, for the fact that the protagonist is an ABCD teenage girl, who is going through her awkward coming of age years. The sentence construction and all the extra adds on to almost every fourth passage of the book, is a treat for every chick-lit reader.

Born Confused is a serious chick-lit, that deals with the protagonist, trying to find her roots, the relationship she shares with her American best friend and of course boys.

I believe on close reading Ms. Desai is talking about her own life, it is impossible to pen down such strong emotions, unless you've actually experienced them yourself. The protagonist is often jealous and in awe of her somewhat slutty, white best friend. American Indians have always raised eyebrows and we've always wondered how brown skinned people, can be so lost and un-Indian. It's a hard life for them, as this book clearly describes, what with identity crisis and finding your own ground in a land dominated by the gorgeous white skinned folks.

There's really no difference between the kids growing up in India and the ones who grow up abroad. We all go through the same thing really, such as snogging boys, being unhappy with too round bodies, keeping up with the fashion trends even if it doesn't suit our figures and the age old arranged 'love' marriage system.

I couldn't keep the book down simply because of Ms Desai's fabulous writing style. She writes an ordinary passage and out of the blue she throws in a few 'food for thought' sentences. After slamming the book shut reluctantly, at the end of the last page, I thought to myself, if ever I write I book, I hope it's as good as this one.

Ms. Desai, you have a new fan. *salutes your creativity*

Groupies..

2009-05-26T05:36:00.000-07:00

Groupies. I'm more than familiar with these annoying, lack of self respect, species. All popular figures through history - men and women, have had their share of groupies. Some succumbed to their groupie's slutty ways, while some held back and decided to go back home to their wives/girlfriends.

Rock bands sensationalized groupies, and brought their existence into light. Led Zeppelin, Gnr and most glam rock bands of the 70s and 80s, have had their share of groupies.

Led Zeppelin Uncensored, a book by Richard Cole (their longest standing road manager) described in detail about the entire band bathing in a Jacuzzi with four of their groupies. The musicians, let out few small harmless octopi in the water to tickle the ladies in their nether-regions so that they would get horny and hence could get on with their 'wham-bham, thankyou groupies' process faster.

I wouldn't be surprised, to hear more tales like these, even today. Being the girlfriend of a popular musician myself, I've had my fair share of groupies. But being the possessive overly jealous person I am, I have kept a check on his groupie connections and have managed to clip them off, before it blossomed into any kind of hideous relationship.

The point is, what is the point of getting laid without a commitment? Would you really be happy, to have a one stand stand? What if you get AIDS? What if your one night stand, turned out to be a murderer, who snaps off your head, the morning after? What if, your room had a camera and it recorded the whole one night stand, which conveniently becomes the next Porn video, for the world to see? (Remember the DPS scandal?)

Groupies, tell me this, have you never fallen in love? Are you really happy, doting after someone who doesn't really give a rat's ass?

Message to all the Groupies lusting after my boyfriend : Stay the hell away from him, or I'll snap your tiny little heads right off your anorexic shoulders. FYI : I gym, everyday and can lift weights that you probably don't even dream off.

Face/Off..

2009-05-24T08:16:00.000-07:00

I have no words to describe this movie, it is absolutely brilliant and super scary! Let me explain it to you, like my Seventh Standard, Chemistry teacher would explain a lab experiment.

Aim : A darn good flick, that makes you poopie in your pants and makes you thank the good lord, that you're man is not in the FBI, the army or any secret service organization, that nails psychopath criminals and makes their life hell.

Procedure : Take two guys - one good, one evil, one cop, one psycho criminal. Next, mix them both into a blender, interchange their faces.

The obvious result : Total chaos! The bad guy, with the good guy's body calls all the shots, takes full advantage of the newly acquired power and makes sure the bad guy (or in other words, the good guy stuck in the bad guy's body) stays locked up in prison.

Good wins over evil, saint wins over sinner - why else would I be watching this movie? I'm an eternal pessimist, the only glimmer of optimism in my life come from literature and good movies, like this one.

I will not divulge the plot at all, because YOU need to watch it, my fellow blog readers and I want those comments flowing down this post and then, we shall talk, about every minuscule ingenious detail, of this movie.

I have only one complaint against the movie, why in God's name was the bad guy given such a small role to play? Couldn't their faces have been swapped an hour or so into the movie, so that the audience could have wowed the villain's evil thinking and gestures? Nicholas Cage was without a doubt the Heath Ledger of this movie, sadly he was on screen as his evil self for only a mere five minutes or so.

The Tearful Adieu..

2009-05-18T04:07:00.000-07:00

They walked through the serene and peaceful IIT Bombay roads, the birds chirped merrily welcoming a new dawn, a light breeze ruffled the tree leaves and he munched noisily on a few pieces of orange, squirting the juices on his white shirt, leaving a trail of yellowy stain. She smiled at his antics and wondered when she would see him again.

The calm surroundings did not reflect on their moods, there was a dull throbbing pain in both their hearts, as they held each others hands tightly. The ride from the campus till the airport was surreal and unnatural. They nattered away senselessly, occasionally sneaking a peck on each others lips and cheeks.

Thoughts of food from the south Indian restaurant in the airport, momentarily blew away glum thoughts from her mind. Her spirits rose, as she munched on that Mysore dosai and for a few minutes she was truly happy, to be walking to the Departure Gate. It was only when he turned around to hug her whispering Goodbye in her ears, that she realized they were parting ways. Their wonderful vacation was over, they would have to wait another painful month or two, before they would meet again.

She slowly walked inside the airport, only to call him on his mobile phone and press herself against the glass wall until he came to her. He pressed his hand against the wall and she placed hers on his. A glass wall separated them now and she couldn’t help but burst into tears.

After completing all the airline procedures, she stepped out again to see her boy. He lifted her spirits a little, by his mere presence and touch. She walked back inside the airport on a slightly more cheery and determined note.

And as the plane touched Chennai city, she had made up her mind. On reaching home, she sat her mother down and explained to her that she had found her husband.

No Reservations..

2009-04-30T23:23:00.000-07:00

A quaint romantic tale of sorts, with two chefs thrown in. This movie only re-confirms my belief that I should be, a chef. My concentration was more on the sumptuous looking food they were preparing, that the movie itself.

As soon as the movie was over, I SMSed my boyfriend, telling him, "Poopie, I want to be a chef. Screw journalism. My heart and soul has always been in food, I want to devote my life to eradicating hunger and making bellies all over the world, happy"

The plot is very predictable. No nonsense lady chef, on top of her game finds herself irritated with a new cook in her kitchen. It doesn't help when her niece, (her dead sister's daughter) opens up more to chef-boy than her.

Chef-boy and the niece become very pally with each other. He even visits her at home, and cooks a meal of pizza with her. Post dinner, finds both chefs settling down in front of a fire, eating Tiramisu and talking to each other more like friends, than work collegues.

To make a long story short, and to cut the blah blahs out, yes, they do end up together and open a restaurant of their own.

My favorite dialogue in the movie goes something like so; "I wish life was a cookbook full of recipes, telling us exactly what to do"

KFC..

2009-04-23T01:06:00.000-07:00

My journey with KFC has been a long, greedy and delicious one. At times when I've been euphoric over passing my exams, pissed drunk, downright depressed or deliriously happy over loosing a few pounds, the only person (yes, KFC has been a very important chick in my life) I turned to was my bird, my best friend and my favorite meat in the world.

KFC was my weakness, my strength and my pillar of support. The walls of KFC know all my deep dark dirty secrets and if they were to speak, I would have to shove my head, into a bucket of KFC forever and ever.

She walked into my life in the late 90s and it was love at first sight, smell and bite. I knew right then that our bond would be stronger than Fevicols'. I wanted to have her for breakfast, lunch, dinner and for a quick midnight snack. If I had my way, I would've ensured that KFC reached every little child in the world. I believe that KFC can teach children things, that their school teachers cannot.

NOTE : The following has been inspired by the Sunscreen Song, but personalized my way or should i say, the KFC way.

KFC is the answer to all your problems ladies and gentlemen. If I could offer you one tip for the future, KFC would be it. In 20 years, you'll look back at that KFC outlet close to your house and wonder why you hadn't gone there when you were younger. You didn't have diabetes or doctors prescriptions to follow back then.

Do something exciting and different everyday, instead of living your boring mundane routine existence and then eat KFC to celebrate your spirit of adventure. Don't break people's hearts, don't put up with people who treat you like cow dung, but if it really gets to you, go down your insecurities and sorrows with huge mouthfuls of KFC.

Don't feel guilty, if you don't know what you want to do with your life. Some of the most interesting people I know, are the ones who are jobless and are still happy, with that one glorious piece of KFC, held firmly in their fists.

Maybe you'll have a kickass sex life, maybe you won't. You could have a faithful partner or one who cheats on you, perennially humping anything that moves. But do you know, a certain chick who won't let you down or cheat on you ever? KFC!

Talk to your parents, be nice to your siblings, because you'll never know when you are going to be broke, and at times like that, your family is your road to reaching KFC.

Accept certain truths; Politicians in India will always be dishonest, the recession will not turn around anytime soon, and lots of people will lose their jobs, including you, perhaps. Don't expect anyone to lend you a shoulder to cry on, your only friend in need will be a bucket of KFC.

Now read the opening line to my blog and understand why I have written it; "I believe that the KFC is the king of all food."

I must tell you now, about a dark night in my life. The night she betrayed me. The night that I threw up my whole entire bucket of KFC, until I could see the sun shining through my window. I call it The Black KFC Day.

I still love my KFC very much, I know I do. My will to look her in the eye has vanished, but I'm sure one of these days a miracle will happen. I'm just waiting for that miracle, until then ladies and gentlemen, trust me on the KFC.

The Story of Destiny..

2009-04-20T11:36:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, there lived an extremely messed up little girl. She went to a girls school, which was a living nightmare for her. Partly because, lesbians constantly hit on her and she was straight. And partly because, the academic pressures were very high and she was certainly not a nerd. She was in fact a queer little round thing, truth be told. She had a select bunch of friends. Her hobbies included swimming and eating. She was quite content with her round unshapely insignificant/average existence.

The next stage of life, namely College, was a breath of fresh air for her. She suddenly found herself fitting right in. She could finally be herself and people accepted her for what she was. She made a few 'friends for life'. As for matters at home, she was the apple of daddy's eye.

Hold it, right there, this story is not for the faint hearted. If you're looking for a regular sati-savitri 'I can fall in love with only one man my whole life' tale, then stop reading this and look elsewhere. This story is only for the slightly wild souls, who've had a taste of what I'm talking about.

She wasn't as cute or angel like as you presume her to be, she was evil, with a capital E-V-I-L. She loved teasing the opposite sex, broke a few hearts and in the process as karma would have it, got hers broken as well. She was a toad for all those fake princes and vice versa. She was, you could say - loveless, boy friendless and a little sad that her mojo-jojo man hadn't made his appearance yet. On certain nights she would cry herself to sleep thinking that her mojo jojo man might have been a young soldier who died at war.

She didn't think she deserved to be happy. She didn't believe for one moment, that she had a soul mate, for all the men who she truly cared about left; for their slutty ex-girlfriends, randomly vanished into thin air without saying goodbye or got married.

And then a miracle happened. Her mojo-jojo finally pranced into her life. She wasn't searching for love anymore at this stage of her life and became something of a cynic. So when their eyes met for the first time, they looked away. And slowly, they began to touch each others lives. They couldn't stop talking to each other, they began exploring each others minds. They laughed, they cried, became good friends and eventually became inseparable.

She pinched herself several times to ensure that it wasn't all a dream. It seemed too surreal, too fairy tale like. How could a complete stranger, make her want to sacrifice her whole life? What made him stand apart from all the other men she had met?

And then, she did what every impulsive fool in love would do; she rushed into his arms. Her conscience had a small talk with her.

Conscience : What do you have to lose this time?
Her : Everything!

Today, the messed up little girl is still quite messed up, but is in safe hands. She has bumped into her father, her best friend, her soul mate and she knows her life is just about right.

The Photograph..

2009-04-15T09:00:00.000-07:00

"Looks don't matter at all, it's whats on the inside that counts" - I've heard this sentence a million times over, from friends, from parents, from acquaintances, from random strangers and once upon a time I was a firm believer myself. Until.. this photograph happened.

I stumbled upon a random man's blog and made a few comments on his writing. Curiosity took over me, and on an impulse I decided to search online for the face behind the writing. As luck would have it, he had an Orkut profile. The face I saw beaming back at me made my fingers freeze on the keyboard. He was a Greek God!

I had my apprehensions about him. I was terribly drawn to him, simply because of his looks. Years of experience with various toads who disguise themselves as prince charming, told me, that he would be a schmuck, just like every other guy on the planet.

A day or two passed, I semi-forgot about the Greek God. I wasn't surprised or disappointed that he hadn't reciprocated. And then, the most startling thing happened. He emailed me. He didn't reply to my comments or send me snide remarks, instead he emailed me! My heart did a little flip-flop and I responded back quickly. And thereon started our email conversations, which slowly transcended to online chats which lasted for nearly three hours every day.

It's been a year now, since I've stumbled upon my Greek God. A lot has happened since then. My life has taken a complete U-turn and I count my blessings each day, thanking the forces of technology which made our paths cross. I see a life with him, and very soon my world shall know of us.

Moral of the story : Looks do count, never listen to what the crowd says because the crowd is a perennially confused frustrated bunch.

Delhi 6

2009-02-25T23:00:00.000-08:00

Delhi 6 - a journey of a boy and his grandmother back to their roots. The movie was not spectacular, but it was a good first attempt made in Indian cinema to bring out the Indian-ness of India starting with the petty fights, the strong religious beliefs, and the joy and affection showered by relatives and family friends on going back home after a very long period of time.

The protagonist of the movie – Roshan, is an American citizen minus the fake accent. He almost made us believe that he never went to America save his weak attempts of American jargon such as the over usage of the phrases and words ‘It’s alright’ and ‘cool’.

The leading woman played a very forgettable role – the typical Hindi movie cliché of girl hating boy at first sight and ultimately falling in love with him. *yawn and double yawn*

My favorite scene in the movie would have to be a lovemaking scene between a wannabe hep city boy and the young bride of a wealthy older gentleman. They merely show the legs of both boy and girl and their toes accidently keep pressing the remote control of the television. This action causes a successive change of channels and suggestive television clips are shown which establishes the fact that they are at it in full steam.

Delhi 6 will raise a few doubts and questions in our minds and will definitely make us wonder why our country is so worried about petty forgettable issues while the real life changing problems are almost always neglected and forgotten.

Three months and counting..

2009-01-27T20:00:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I've visited this place and typed a few words. I've forgotten how to write just for the fun of it. For most people making a living out of their passion must be a dream come true. For me though, what started out as a dream became a living nightmare. Being a professional features writer/reporter, with an extremely lazy editor who barely appreciates having you around is far from a dream.

This post is an attempt to re-spark my love of writing again, without deadlines hanging like dead weight on my shoulders.

I'm back home in Chennai after three months of living alone in Bombay. I've learnt a lot in these three months - I've learnt that working with a sadass excuse of a magazine is a waste of time, finishing your studies always comes first; pay packets and companies will follow suit, firms are selfish and think only of themselves, some people are just opportunists who simply use you, without batting an eyelid, for cleaning up their mess and when that is done, they pretend like they don't know you anymore.

The experience has changed me. For 21 years, I was in a safe cocoon called home. Stepping out into the real world and seeing with my own two eyes that it's not a nice place for our children to grow up, is not a very comforting feeling.

Tales of gloom aside, I've also had the time of my life, in these three months. I've met some interesting people, I've fallen in love with the mad city Bombay is and I'm definitely going back for more.

Mommy..

2008-11-20T21:15:00.000-08:00

The first thing i did this morning, the minute i opened my eyes was to give mommy a missed call. We had a 15 minute conversation which went like so.

Mom : Haan, whats up?
Me (groggy eyed and hippo-yawning) : Not much, just felt like hearing your voice.
Mom : Oh okie
Me : Mummaa, I'm feeling very tired. I don't feel like going to work today
Mom : Obviously, you'll feel tired. You're not eating properly. Just lunch everyday is going to make you loose your health and all your resistance. (and more food related advice)
Me : *coughing and sneezing*
Mom : Just come back home, enough of your Bombay experiment.

I managed to hang up after convincing her that I'll eat some more and that i was getting late for work.

As i was getting ready to leave, the conversation we had kept playing in my mind. And as i stepped out of home to catch the bus to the station, i saw little girls walking hand in hand with their mothers. The sight made a single tear drop trickle down my eye and it made me realize that i was really missing my mother.

I wanted to be 4 years old all over again and live a life of no responsibilities.

Samosas..

2008-11-07T20:33:00.000-08:00

There is something very divine about a samosa. Words are too little to express how I feel when the taste of the aloo and the fried covering play around the insides of my mouth. I've had a fascination for this heavenly triangle for a very long time.

Most mornings i skip breakfast, partly because I don't get any at the PG I stay in and partly because I'm in a rush to get to work before the trains and the buses get too crowded. Traveling in Mumbai is something that you get used to only after a very loooooooong time.

I'm used to the grind now of pushing and pulling around with the fat aunties on the train to get that wee bit of space to breathe and jumping into the bus as fast as my legs allow me to.

This morning I left home earlier than usual and reached Dadar station at 9.20am, I had time to kill. So I took a slow walk down the crowded streets of Dadar, watching the shopkeepers dusting out their wares and opening shop for the day. Each morning I pass rows and rows of eat outs and I see food in abundance. The smells wafting out of each make my tummy cringe with hunger. And this morning I decided to answer the call of my tummy. I saw a huge basket of samosas being carried by 2 men, I walked right behind them, watching the samosas with lustful eyes.

They walked into a small street shop and placed the basket inside. The shop had a small counter selling samosas, dhoklas, pav bhaji and many more knick knacks. People were crowded around the shop like bees to a honey comb. I joined the crowd and asked for one samosa.

The man behind the counter, took out a samosa from the counter, wrapped it in a newspaper along with some spicy green chilly chutney and gave it to me. (his actions were at the speed of light, before I knew what was happening the whole bundle was in my hand) I smiled at him, payed him the amount I owed him and settled down on a steel bench with my samosa.

I could taste the freshness of the aloo stuffed inside the samosa, it was still piping hot from all the frying. The spicy chutney dipping added on to my mouth-orgasm. I was in a world of my own now - nothing seemed to matter except me and my samosa.

After I was done eating, I looked at the empty sheet of paper with sadness and made a promise to myself that every alternate morning, I would sin. Calories can just go to hell for all I care.

A new dawn..

2008-11-05T23:07:00.000-08:00

A post after a million days - thanks to some violent prodding from a certain special someone.

R: btw i am angry at you
G:?

R : since you have joined work, you seem to have put your own writing at a complete back seat

G: yea, i know

R: you work is profession, and your blog is your hobby, y don't i see your blog being updated, during maybe the most eventful period of your life?

So here i am, trying to making a post - I've gotten rusty, i have forgotten how to just write for the fun of writing. I write now with thoughts of will my editor like it, does this fit the writing style of the magazine, would people give it a second read and so on.

It's funny how life takes you to these absolute dead ends and just when you think things just can't get any worse, your brain begins to see light - the light of acceptance. Shit happens and you just learn to deal with it.

I've grown up in the past 2 months, living away from home. Suddenly there is this burst of responsibility resting on my shoulders - starting with getting my clothes washed to meeting article deadlines to jumping onto the train quickly and hanging on to anything for dear life.

Living out of home is like walking on thin glass. It takes time to get used to it. But once the mental block of "Can i do this? Am i capable enough?" is out of your head, the world is yours to rule.

Mumbai food..

2008-10-08T00:38:00.000-07:00

If food is life and eating is your only survival kit, then Mumbai is the place for you. There is a plethora of food starting from Rs 5/- to Rs 5000/-

I've been in this lovely city for the past 1 month and two eateries that really caught my eye during my brief stay here are, Jumbo king Vada Pav stalls and Amore Gelato ice cream parlor.

Vada pav is a Maharasthrian preparation of a deep fried mashed potato (much like our South Indian equivalent of a Bonda) served in a Bun with or without sauces. The first time I ever had a Vada Pav at the Jumbo king stall, I went bonkers. Jumbo king stalls are located at all the major railway stations of Mumbai. So after every tiring train ride I lunged towards a Jumbo king stall and stuffed my face with Schezuan Jumbo king with one large overly sweetened lassi to wash it all down. I could not get over the fact that this meal was hardly burning my wallet of moolah. The foodie in me, was over the moon.

Moving on to our next yummy in my tummy eat out - Amore Gelato parlour. The cousin and I ate one spoon of all the ice creams on display, starting with After Eight and ending with Cookies and Cream. After a lot of thought, I settled on a Belguim chocolate and she on a Mocha. We had them in waffle cones covered with chocolate sauce right where the cone opens out for the scoop to fall in.

As we dug greedily into our cones, three anorexic-food-is-for-losers women, walked in and looked around with disgruntled expressions at the array of ice creams on display and asked the ice cream scooper boy how many calories one scoop would have. By now I had ice cream on my hair, chin, cheeks and shirt, I perked up to look at the face of the ice cream scooper boy and I could see that he and I were harbouring the same thought, namely - "Get out of this sacred ice cream house NOW, or I will stuff a grenade down your throat."

They finally settled for some yucky looking fruit flavored ice creams served in paper cups (which by the way spoils the whole ice cream eating purpose, you either have your scoop in a yummy waffle cone or die)

I'm still exploring the city and eating as much as I can on the way. So, this post shall continue. Until then, keep the foodie in you alive and keep that ponch happy.

Rock On..

2008-09-11T12:02:00.000-07:00

Musicians. We've worshiped them, loved them, been jealous of them, dressed and walked like them. And most of us would easily cut off an arm or a leg, to just live a day of their life.

Rock On is a movie about four men, whose lives take a twist from making music to taking up responsibilities that are thrown their way. Slowly, they are forced to give up their dreams and lead stereotypical 'make money, marry wife, have kids' life.

It is an eye opener for most of us who presumed that rock stars are demi gods, who lead perfect lives. Women, talent, free food at all the places where you play a gig, what more can you ask for?

It also strongly underlines the fact that life is uber strange. We never know where we're going, until we've reached. Planning out our entire life is a decent thing to do, i suppose. Our parents did it, our grandparents did it and they all did okie. But, okie is not good enough. Extraordinary is what we should be looking for.

Philosophy aside, the movie is killer. I loved it and I would definitely give it a second watch. The soundtrack is foot tapping and fun to hear. Investing on the audio CD would not be a total waste of moolah.

Sowmia Mohanlal..

2008-08-30T02:39:00.001-07:00

Sowmia Mohanlal - Assistant Store Manager, with the Landmark group in the UAE. Sophisticated, hardworking and an out and out professional with only one thought in mind - meet the sales targets at the end of the month. To me though, she is Sowmi chechi. The woman who babied me ever since she was 3 years old.

Growing up with Sowmia Mohanlal was not half bad. I remember being fiercely possessive of her. I hated it when she babied other little girls, chatted up other random people and played with animals (because she was, is and always shall be an animal lover). I wanted her undivided attention at all times. She was my mother hen and i was the awkward duckling that nestled under her belly.

As i entered my teen years, i found that there was an ocean of differences in opinion between me and her. She continued looking out for me whilst i flitted around playing every bit of my rebellious teen years.

In the past 2 weeks though, i found that we have never been more closer to each other in our lives. My brother just got married and the pre marriage drill was taking a toll on the entire family. As things began to crumble, she stood strong and bold holding together all the pieces of our family like a tube of super glue. She passed on her karmic mumbo-jumbo advice to me as usual and for once, it all made sense to me. I realized that she is the BEST sister a girl can ever have. She has set the sister platform so high in my mind, that no other woman in the world can enter that position that she has taken in my life.

No other girl - be it sisters in laws, be it cousins, be it my very own sister (if i had one) can ever take the place of Sowmia Mohanlal - the best cousin and the best sister ever.

Disclaimer Note : She is single, drop dead gorgeous and up for grabs. So single men over 6 feet of height, well established in their respective field of work, please don't hesitate to e-mail me. =D

My Hot Hairdresser Boy - Part 3

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

This post is a sad anti-climax to my trilogy. Please refer blog archive for Parts 1 and 2.

I walked into the parlor with an air of hope, confidence and a tingle of excitement. I couldn't wait to see my hot hairdresser boy again and drool over him. Sadly, fate had something else in store for me this morning.

Mum and I walked into the parlor dot at 11.30 am. My eyes wasted no time. It immediately scanned the entire parlor for traces of my boy. Disappointed, i plastered on a fake cheery grin and enquired about him to one of the parlor helpers.

Helper : Sanjay is not here
Me : (wishing the earth would split in two and swallow me in) Oh.
Helper : He has gone to Bombay for a training
Me : Aaah! ='(

My whole world crashed before my eyes at that point. I couldn't think straight, I had to sit down, I knew I'd faint if i didn't. Looking at my pale face, the helper rushed inside and got me a glass of water.

Me : When will he come back?
Helper : I'm not sure
Me : Oohhh. Alright.

The rest of the day was a blur. I honestly didn't care about my hair anymore. The cute chubby aunty who owned the parlor chopped my tresses and two helpers blow dried it and gave it a nice bouncy curly look.

I insisted that i wanted the exact same hair-do my hair savior had given me. The wonders he did with my hair in ten minutes flat, could not be re-done with three women combined. They took 45 minutes to chop and set my hair in place.

At the end of it all, I do look exactly like how my boy saw me 4 months ago. But, the experience was sad and hollow without him. There is a definite void in my soul, now that he has left the parlor.

*sniffs loudly into a tissue and bites into a large bar of chocolate*

The Dark Knight..

2008-07-28T09:59:00.000-07:00

Lets have a moment of silence now, clear our throats and on the count of three.. 1, 2, 3. SCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEAAAM! WHATTA MOVIE! If you haven't seen it, jump off a cliff ten times and kill yourself!

I'm confused now. Who do i like more, Batman or the Joker. On the one hand, we have an unsung hero, someone who makes sacrifices, kicks some butt, annihilates evil and yet is hated and misunderstood by the people who he stands to protect, come what may. And on the other hand, we have a lunatic, who kills people for no reason, who just lives his life without a goal in particular. He just wants to piss Batman off and bring gloom to the city of Gotham by breaking their spirits, by killing their hopes for a good future.

The Dark Knight, is one of the most smartest, sleekest, nattiest, realistic superhero flicks' made in our times. The movie ends with the villain winning and the hero loosing. The Joker succeeds in driving a good man, out of his mind. He pushes him over the edge and makes him a villain. Whilst, Batman flees the scene like a criminal, although he did no harm.

More than the fight between good and evil, it was a movie that strongly underlined the choices we make. Sometimes the right choices have horrible consequences. But we can't shirk off those choices. We have a responsibility, to ourselves and to the people who believe in us.

Heath Ledger. Sir, i just have one word and one thought in my mind for you : RESPECT! You have changed the face of super villains. We love you! May your soul rest in peace.

Crossroad..

2008-07-15T21:41:00.000-07:00

There comes a point in every human being's life, when she has to take a major decision. She must finally decide, what her purpose in life is. And once she realizes that, she must shirk off all the people who are not supportive of her and move on.

Life is not about keeping other people happy, it is about keeping yourself happy. It is about carving a niche for yourself in this world and fighting it out till the very end.

It took me 21 years, 5 months and 16 days to realize that i was born to write. I will make my bread, butter, jam and live off it, only with my writing. Nothing in the world brings me more joy than thinking and writing down those thoughts.

I have two job offers in Chennai, from very reputed organizations but i choose not to take them, i choose the non-easy way. I choose my dream. And I'll be damned if anybody, tries to stop me.

My first love..

2008-07-13T21:28:00.000-07:00

Riding back home from gym today, I was thinking about my never-ending job hunt in Mumbai, my journalism dreams, my blog, the Oats oozing with sugar and 5 tablespoons of skimmed milk powder that would be waiting for me once i reach home and so on. Out of the blue, it hit me, I've written about a gallizion things in this space, except for the most important person/thing in my life. My first love, my baby, my purple Scooty Pep!

Our torrid love affair started when i was in my first year of college and I can say without a doubt in my mind that we're still going strong. She has been through it all with me. The good times, the bad times, the moderate times and the wasted times. She has borne the brunt of my sadness, anger, euphoria, excitement and all the other human emotions humanely possible. She has been a brave soldier for three years, battling all my mood swings. Ever-ready to take on any challenges head-on. Be it dodging stupid pedestrians who just can't cross the road for nuts, cyclists who take forever to crawl through traffic, dinosaur sized cars that try and act funny whenever they see a woman-biker on the roads. Yes, woman biker! My scooty is a Bike. She is not a moped, she is not a scooty. She is a Bike. Period!

Whenever she falls ill, i feel her pain. It brings me great sadness and agony to take her to the service station and leave her there with a bunch of men for 2 and 3 days. My life comes to a standstill for that period of time and i pray fervently to all the Gods to heal her quick, so that she can come back home, back to where she belongs.

My purple scooty pep, i have no words to thank you for putting up with me, for being my ever faithful sidekick, for being my friend and confidante during all the times i needed you the most.

I love you babe! Always and forever.

Dynasty - Speciality Chinese Restaurant

2008-07-06T02:05:00.000-07:00

Dynasty is probably one of the most underrated eat-outs in the city. Nobody has heard of it. The Wangs and Mainland Chinas of the world are recognized more. And nobody ever eats in Dynasty. Whenever i walk inside, the place is almost empty. So, this post is to boost up the sales of one of my personal favorite eat outs in the city - Dynasty!.

To start off with, note down the address :

Old No 10,
New No. 57
Greenways Road (inside Music College Arch Lane)
RA Puram
Chennai - 28
Home Delivery numbers : 43060000/43060003

Right, now with the nittigrities out of the way, lets get straight down to business - the food! If you are a self respecting foodian, the first thing that you would do when you enter a Chinese eat out, is order their Chicken Lollipop. And if you don't know what that is, then read no further, this post is not for you. I strongly believe that you can judge the quality of a Chinese eat out, by just eating their Chicken Lollipop. Dynasty's Chicken lollipop will take you on a higher plane of bliss. It's definitely the next best thing to sex and chocolates.

If you're a nibbler, a spoilsport, an anti-food person, then order their Chicken Man chow soup. A delicious concoction of shredded chicken, chillies, fried noodles and mixed vegetables. By now, you'd be geared for more food. Your tummy would expand a little with anticipation, however strict you are with your diet. You'd find yourself praying to the Lord; "Forgive me, for this one night of sin. I shall workout tomorrow like a maniac."

Next on the list is Kway Teow or in non Greek, normal human being language - Flat noodles, with mixed meat consisting of pork, chicken, beef, prawn and crab. The perfect side dish to go with Kway Teow is Shredded Beef dipped in soya sauce, ginger and onion.

If your keyboard is not already overflowing with drool, then my friend, you have issues! Stop reading, start gorging. Bonappetit!

The call of the cookie jar..

2008-05-31T21:51:00.000-07:00

Last year, and the year before the last.. and the year before that..

No, that doesn't sound right. Let me start again. For the past 19 years of my life, the first thing I did as soon as I walked into a departmental store would be running to the chocolate, ice-cream and cookie section. I'd run haywire in the shop, pick up bars and tubs of poison and stuff my already overstuffed face with it all.. without sharing it with anyone. I shared Joey's philosophy on food. I did not share.

For the past 2 years though, all that has changed. I joined a gym and the harsh reality of being 12 kilos overweight hit me hard. So, i quit food. I started the anti-food movement with a good friend of mine (who was skin and bones already, but she is, a paranoid person and thinks she resembles a walrus) We barely ate and over-excercised. Things were going smoothly and as per our plan until our health's got in the way. We started loosing our resistance. We fell sick more often, had fainting spells now and then (my coolest fainting spell was in the loo.. i felt i was flying, until my head hit the bathroom tile) and threw up certain things we ate.

I wanted this post to be a little funny.. But the flow of words have taken a different direction. Children.. Ladies especially, reading this post. Do not starve and deprive yourself of food. It is uncool and stupid.

Eat the occasional chocolate chip cookie and glug a whole glass of coffee with tons of cream on it.. You can sin. It's human to sin.

Yesterday my uncle picked up tons of Oatmeal cookies covered in chocolate sause. I tried not to eat them, but the cookie jar looked at me accusingly and seemed to say, "After all these years, can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you don't love me anymore" I hugged the jar and whispered back with moist eyes; "I still love you with all my heart" and before I knew what I was doing, I ate 2 whole cookies and ran as fast and far as my legs could carry me.

I repeat.. It's human to sin. Eat that cookie without hesitation. You know you deserve it.

Vacations..

2008-05-25T00:21:00.000-07:00

The thing about vacations, especially the one vacation before joining work and right after you're done with college, drags on for an eternity. Nothing seems right. You're a little fuzzy all the time, disoriented and just plain lost like a puppy dog wandering on a dark street.

Deleting seminar notes, exam time tables and going through tearful e-mails of 46 other women who shared a 3 year roller coaster ride along with me makes me gloomier. I am, was and never shall be a fan of change. It is the one thing I hate.

Speaking about the land I'm vacationing at.. There is a food overdose, heat overdose and T-Rex sized malls overdose. I'm sleep deprived and on my toes most of the time, clicking away furiously with my digi-cam and drinking gallons of iced coffee with cream and chocolate sauce topping.

Last week, I was in this mall called the Dragon Mall.. it is shaped like a Dragon and all the shops inside sell Chinese stuff. Walking down one of the alleys in the mall, I bumped into an aunty I met on the plane. We made conversation, oohed and aahed over the freak coincidence. We didn't ask each other too many personal questions, and we left our names unsaid.

Yesterday, I went to a mall called City Center and bumped into my classmate from school. We stared at each other wide eyed, hugged and caught up on each other’s lives of 3 years. "You don't look the same at all, you've become so skinny" she kept saying for the first 5 minutes. I laughed and remembered my pro food days when I'd gorge on everybody's lunch boxes.

Vacations.. I don't like them! Dear blog readers, do pass on all your unfinished assignments and projects to me, I'd love to work on them for you.

My first impressions of Sharjah..

2008-05-14T01:42:00.000-07:00

The 4-hour flight to start off with, was annoying. We had to wait in the airport for 4 hours, to finally board the silly plane. Once on board, my heart was in my throat and i had to suppress a few screams (because, i am scared of heights) as we took off the runway. I began to relax a little once the drinks and food were served. We landed at Dubai airport at an ungodly hour. The folks and i wandered around a little aimlessly at first and then we asked a huge Shake-man where to go and he replied back in Hindi "Neeche Jao". Multilingual folks these. We had to collect our original Visas from a counter and then go back up again to get it stamped from the other airport dudes. Shake-men are quite hot. They come in various shapes, sizes and heights much like our Indian men. They have very sharp features though and you can't help but take a second look and flash them a nice flirty smile.

Next, we collected our luggage from the luggage belt (for which we had to wait for another 1 hour) and we walked out of the airport, to be hit with a blast of really skin piercing hot air. We could feel heat bouncing off the roads and on to our faces. We walked around a little to spot my brother; mum made a passing comment about his punctuality and we continued staring into space. I suddenly felt a huge slap on my back and a "Welcome to Dubai Branson family". We stood there right at the entrance of the airport group hugging each other and giggling like a bunch of teenagers. It was a very Brady Bunch sort of a moment.

Next we rolled the luggage trolley to the car park and drove out of the airport. We looked in awe at all the enormous buildings and heavy traffic on the roads at 3am in the morning. I wanted to stick my head out like a dog and take snaps right away, but i was too fagged out from the nightmarish plane ride. I was half asleep by the time we got home. Nice sloppy kisses and huge bear hugs were exchanged with the cousin and the granny who were wide-awake and waiting for us.

I somehow managed to shirk off my clothes and get into my night suit and I crashed into bed like a pile of heavy wood. I was dead to the world for the next 8 hours. I got up the next morning with the sun shining right into my eyes. For a minute, I wondered if I was dead and God had finally come to say Hi. Then I opened my eyelids a little more and scanned the room around me. I walked out on to the balcony and looked down at the 13 floors below us. Cars on the road looked like small toys and people walking around looked like little moving dots. There were huge buildings everywhere and a nice harbor with ships and a good view of the sea. This place truly epitomized the word "Urban Jungle".

I think I'll truly enjoy my 1-month stay here. I could really get used to being pampered by the family and exploring this land some more.

Six Years..

2008-05-04T10:35:00.000-07:00

Gather around boys and girls. It's fairy tale with a twist of horrible reality, time of the month again! Once upon a time which dates back to six years ago, there lived a loony 15 year old school kid and a very wise 18 year old college kid. They were cities apart. She resided in Chennai, whilst he in Dubai. They were very different from one another. But as the old norm goes - Opposites Attract. They met online, were hi-bye friends for a while. Then he decided to come to Chennai, for his break and so they swapped numbers. They spent a lot of time with each other conversing about everything and nothing. One night, whilst talking to him on the phone, he said he had already dreamt about her and the house she lived in. She did not believe him and so to prove a point, he drove his car right upto her house and she looked down at him from her balcony for the very first time.

They were probably in love with each other, but then again they were just children. They finally decided to meet in person. On the first date, the boy came a little late. The girl stood waiting for him impatiently, but the minute she saw him and the bunch of roses he held in his hand, her anger melted away. The date was absolutely fantastic. They met every single day that he was in town. Tearful goodbyes were said, when it was time for him to go back to Dubai. Somehow they lost touch with each other and the girl decided to dump him. (Yes, i know, what a bitch! If only she had a little bit of patience)

The reason why she dumped him, is still a mystery to her. She wishes till today that if she could have a second chance for that one moment in life, a rewind button or an erase button for life, she would hit that and undo her stupidity.

Moving forward, because life has to move on and so does our story - They kept in touch with each other, they were seeing other people of course, but they constantly were on and off in touch with each other. They continued meeting each other as well, each time the boy was in town.

Moving forward further to present day, both individuals still continued staying friends. The boy now shifted to Chennai. They kept meeting each other and finally the magic and the history of 6 whole years could be held back no longer. They decided to give each other a second chance, another shot, starting anew, from scratch.

Sadly, this time around, they squabbled over nothing. The boy had no time for the girl. He was committed fully to his work and frills of a relationship did not seem to be his priority. The girl tried to reach out to him, but he shut her away and turned a deaf ear. She was defeated. The one man who was always on her mind for 6 years, the one man for whom, her chest hurt like it had been rolled over with a huge bulldozer had finally said goodbye to her.

She cried, wails of agony escaping her mouth. She felt lost for the very first time in her life. She had a bright future to look forward to, but what was all that in comparison to the loss of the only man she fell completely head over heels in love with.

THE END

Tashan..

2008-04-29T09:30:00.000-07:00

First up, cut the movie some slack. It's not all that hideous. It's a good entertainer and worth almost every penny, of the 100 odd bucks spent for the tickets.

The story revolves around 4 characters. Saif Ali Khan - A call center employee who is obsessed with women, this character is thrown in, to the portray the yuppie Indian youth of today. Kareena Kapoor - a slut essentially, but a slut with morals. (She's Indian after all remember) She is out to avenge her father's death and hence will trample things which cause roadblocks, men and material included. Akshay Kumar - a country bumpkin, who idol worships Anil Kapoor. I loved this character, partly because he really kicked some mean ass and pulled off stunt after stunt effortlessly and partly because he did full justice to the country bumpkin role. No one could've done it better. Anil Kapoor - a crazy Don, who wants to learn angreez, kill people, make a ton of money - you know, the usual Don stuff.

Kareena dupes Saif into believing that she is in love with him and swindles him of a ton of money, which belongs to Anil Kapoor. Anil Kapoor in turn, gets pissed off and sends Akshay Kumar to beat the shit out of Saif, find the girl and bring the two and the money back to him.

It's a typical Bollywood masala flick with the usual dose of song, dance, melodrama, childhood sweethearts and a mad villain of course. All in all, a fun 3 hours and something minutes!

Letting Go..

2008-04-27T11:13:00.001-07:00

One of the most hardest things in the world, is letting go. However close you are to someone or something, at some point you just have to let things be and not obsess over it.

Parents, have to learn to let go of their children. Treating them like 5 year olds when they're 21 and can legally drink is uncool. Although, i suppose I'll know the feeling only when I'm a parent i guess. But as of right now, I'm on the other side of the fence and this is pure undiluted injustice!

Friends, are the best things ever. There is no question of letting go or giving them 'space'. You can be around them all the time and still not feel suffocated by them.

Lovers, are weird beings. It's a huge complicated mess when one wants a lot of space and the other would just like to spend some quality time. I hate love. I always have. It's never been kind to me. I have become a full blown out and out cynic. In fact, I've always had a very strong hunch that i was an evil queen in my last birth, who separated lovers and got between the way of true love.

Anyway, at the end of the day, you cant force things to happen. If you get hurt, deal with it. Don't mope for too long, don't mope for too little time. Mope for just the exact amount of hours.

If, on the other hand, you get lucky and end up with the man of your dreams, good for you! Just don't come around gloating about it to the rest of us single folks and make us look like wimps. Thankyou very much.

The Holiday..

2008-04-26T08:44:00.000-07:00

The Holiday is for people who are going through a mid life, relationship crisis. This movie covers every nook and cranny about the highs and lows, of being in love. Clingy ex-boyfriends who take you for a ride and you get carried away because you're still in love with the idiot. Girlfriends who claim to be head over heels in love with you, but the minute you turn your back on her, she finds comfort in the arms of another man.

The movie centers around the lives of two women. Kate Winslet - the smart, pretty, kind, generous girl who is blindly in love with her stupid ex, who takes full advantage of her vulnerability and uses her as a nice and proper doormat. Cameron Diaz - a successful career woman, who owns a movie trailor making company. She is at the top of her game - sophisticated, rich, sassy. Her life couldn't get more perfect, except for the fact that her live in boyfriend slept with another woman.

The two women decide to take a break, from their messed up lives and decide to swap houses for 2 weeks. Diaz goes to Winslet's quaint little cottage and finds love in Winslet's brother, Jude Law. Winslet goes to Diaz's mini mansion of a house and makes friends quickly (she is portrayed as the English version of Munnabhai - she spreads cheer wherever she goes) and she finds love in Diaz's ex boyfriends' business partner.

Obviously, all ends well. I will say no more, because this movie deserves at least one watch. It's the perfect end to a perfect Saturday of binging at a buffet lunch and spending some quality time with the folks. *Burp* excuse me. =D

My prolonged vacation..

2008-04-22T01:15:00.000-07:00

Vacations suck, especially when you know that after it's over, you will not go back into the routine that you were so used to for 3 whole years.. (I'm still heartbroken over passing out, so please bear with some emotional sop)

I just got back home after a 11 day fiasco, in coconut oil and overly hairy men land. The experience was moderately pleasant. I didn't miss coming online this holiday. Trivandrum for me has always been torture. I'm house arrested with no bike, no friends, no gym and no internet connection at home. But this time around, i embraced all that with an overdose of Zoom TV, MTV, 9XM, HBO and Star Movies. Crappy bollywood songs and ridiculously idiotic chick flicks and vague, stupid boy humour flicks are all on the back of my hand now.

I considered writing a book with all the free time in hand, but NO.. the idiot box screamed out my name the minute my eyes opened in the morning.

As for gymming, my next best friend after the internet, i compensated that with running up and down the hillside. My grandma has a house right on top of the hill. You get a splendid view of the whole city if you stand on the terrace. Anyways, back to my primitive workout sessions.. I couldn't feel my back for 5 hours straight after running all over the hill. And when i could finally feel some sensation on my back, it felt like a T-Rex had marched all over my back and jumped on it a few hundred times.

And finally, the sole reason for this unholy trip this year - Weddings! I tried my very best to slip out of my socially awkward self and make conversation and pretend to know my extended large deranged family with horny uncles and matchmaking aunts all in toe. As for cute boys, there were NONE! *sniffs*

Coming back to the point of this post - Vacations SUCK! Vacations are for losers! I want work, i want work!

Passing Out.. Finally!

2008-04-08T04:07:00.000-07:00

Today was the VERY LAST DAY B.sc Electronic Media, Batch of 2008 walked into college. We were called to collect our Transfer Certificates, sharp at 10.30am. Most of us walked in dot on time, knowing fully well that we'd have to wait for at least 2 hours to get our TCs in hand. But today was different, we walked in on time because this was the last time we'd ever see each other again as a class. The noise, the chatter, the sound of the old rusty fan, the faces of our profs - we would drink in the details for years to come.

I clung on to my best friend and made promises of being in touch with her, come what may. Life as we had known it to be, was coming to a sad end. We all wanted to burst into tears, but held them back for fear that we'd kill the festive mood. We smiled a smile that reached only our lips, our eyes spoke of the gloom that lurked inside.

It was finally my turn, to collect my TC. My faculty adviser smiled and wished me luck. I smiled back and walked away, too chocked to let the words come out. I walked out of the Department and looked on with envy at a few 2nd year kids talking animatedly amongst themselves.

I went back to my best friend and clung on to her. We walked into our classroom, looked at the wall that had all our names scribbled on it, looked at our desks, the window we used to spy on the watchman, glanced at the house we thought had caught fire and called the cops (whilst in reality a havan was on and the smoke was from the sacred fire), the blackboard we never used (well, not NEVER, we did doodle on it occasionally) .

We went back to the Department and waited for her turn, to collect her TC. I spotted my gang in the cluster of people inside the Department, hugged all of them and said goodbye.

TC in hand, we decided to walk down the stairs, promising one another to keep in touch through Face book and G talk.

All good things must come to an end; she said. I nodded silently, gave her one last hug and we walked in opposite directions with the hope of seeing each other again, someday!

My hot hairdresser boy - Part 2

2008-04-01T01:28:00.000-07:00

This is one of those posts that require a little brushing up. It all began like so :- http://bonappetite.blogspot.com/2007/11/cute-hairdresser-boy.html

NOW resume reading here! Yesterday was a very sacred day for me. I was waiting for what felt like an eternity to have my tresses chopped, by my Edward Scissor hands version 2.0

I walked into the parlour to find my chappie in a hassled mood, the parlour was busier than usual yesterday and he was running hither tither between customers chopping, dying, straightening and advising.

He looked at me briefly, pointed out to a chair which faced a big mirror and continued running around the parlour. Once seated, he took off my hair clip and surveyed the war zone. He suggested that 4 inches need to be chopped off. I LOVE my long hair and in normal circumstances i would've said; up yours and bolted, but because it was HE who had suggested it, i smiled demurely and nodded.

He snapped his fingers and asked one of his helpers, to wash my hair. Hair wash done, a towel was thrown on my head like a turban. He was the last person on the face of this planet who should've seen me like that, but thanks to the nice blue stoned semi danglers i had thrown on, i didn't look too hideous. He towel dried my hair for me, made a parting and picked up his tools.

The next 10 minutes were absolutely out of this world. I felt sparks when he ran his fingers through my scalp. And each time he got his face close to mine to check what he was doing, i had to literally control the urge to smooch him. Remember Leo Di Cap painting Kate Winslets' nude picture in Titanic? I felt like Kate Winslet. I was letting an artist do his thing and trying to look unperturbed about the whole thing, while in reality i could feel an incredible amount of heat from head to toe.

Haircut done, he blow dried my hair and styled it. The person who looked back at me from the mirror was a diva! He had given my straw straight hair fun bouncy curls. I wanted to kiss his hands and ask him, whether he was free for dinner later that night.

But as always, i didn't do anything. I just smiled, blew the hair bang away from my eyes and thanked him.

Message to the Divine Superpower : Please God, give me the strength and courage to ask him out at least the next time.

Chocolate Easter Eggs..

2008-03-21T23:33:00.000-07:00

I luurrrrrveee the Easter season. I have to flaunt my ignorance a little now, to make a point. I have no idea, what the season/festival is all about. Mum keeps explaining it to to me every year and so does my maid at home, but it just bounces off my head.

The only thing that keeps me on my toes, on Easter day, is the Easter egg. Not the horrible sugar glazed white hardened thing, which you crack and out pops some yucky candies, not that kind. I'm talking about the chocolate easter egg. A blob of pure undiluted chocolate shaped as an egg. *drools* Heaven never looked or tasted better folks. Trust me blindly!

Last evening, i heard loud drunken singing next door, from a bachelor pad. "Its a long weekend, people are all at home" said daddykins. For me at this point in time, all days are weekends, i have lost track of time and space. Sitting at home during study holidays can be a bore. "What long weekend?" I asked. "It's Easter weekend child" said mum.

Me : Reaallly?! I want an Easter egg then! Remember ammumma (mallu word for grandmother) used to get me one every year
Mum : Yes, when you were 7 years old. *smiles*
Me : Biiig deal. I love easter eggs even more now. Pleaasseee muuummmaaaa. Get it for me noooooo.
Mum : Alright, alright! =|

So this morning, as soon as i got up from bed, i tiptoed outside to survey the house and spot my easter egg. After 2 minutes of searching i gave up, looked at mum with a pout and then decided to hit the gym.

During my 1.5 hour workout, i kept dreaming about my chocolate easter egg and wondered when we'd be united again, together, like a real family. Me and my chocolate easter egg.

Workout done, i raced back home, to find mum standing coyly at the table. There was a small white box on the table.

Mum : Oh, I wonder what that is.
Me : (lunging for the box) Its MY easter egg!! Thankyou mumma!

Halfway through eating my heavenly blob i pecked mum on the cheek, chocolate easter egg style!

I luurrrrrveee the Easter season. =D

Once Upon a Time in the World of Net-dom..

2008-03-20T03:04:00.000-07:00

Here I am, back to square one, discussing my favorite topic of all times. Onliners! This time I've decided to tell you the facts in a bollywood masala types tale of love/hate.

Once upon a time in the world of net-dom, there lived a girl. She loved blogs and blogging, more than anything else in the world. So, one day she stumbled on the blog of a very interesting man. She read one of his posts, left a comment and went her way.

Life was mundane, with the routines of gymming, sleeping, reading, eating, watching four movies a day etc. College could have been tossed to the list, but she had passed out and was on her study break. She was just swallowing in the fact that this is IT, the decisions she makes henceforth will define the person she is. She is going through a 'i hate growing up', 'i don't want to leave college' phase.

So, the timing could not have been better, when the random interesting man, commented back on roughly around 20 posts of hers. She was floored, to say the very least.

The random interesting man added her on Orkut, and soon an easy friendship was formed. His scraps made her day and she couldn't wait for the next day and the next and the next , just for scrapping back and forth with him.

Now, remember the old adage, familiarity breeds contempt. This story epitomizes THAT adage to the T.

As the hours flew by, she still looked forward to hearing from him, but he didn't quite feel the same. Her girly alarms rang violently in her head and hence she decided to cut him off.

It was one of the hardest decisions that the girl had to make in the recent past, considering she is a very blah blah, i love people person. But she realized, from the wounds of her past and from all the knowledge she gathered through similar situations, that she is bound to get hurt anyway. Therefore, instead of giving the man a chance at it, she decided to take a painful step back and give Serendipity a chance to do its thing.

Thus children, at this moment we have an incomplete, sad love/hate story in our hands. But that is the game of life, we have to play it. And play it well!

THE END!

Big Girls Don't Cry..

2008-03-17T11:04:00.001-07:00

First up, i cant believe my ears, I'm actually listening to songs like these! College and a certain Ms Todi has ruined my life. *coughs*

I really paid attention to the lyrics and to the video today. Milo Anthony Ventimiglia is the kind of guy, I'd personally flip for. Throw in some tatooes as well, and hes one smoking piece of grilled chicken, fresh off the barbecue oven.

My interpretation of this whole song and video is - - Theres this girl. She is in love with a very hot man. But there's a catch of course (all hot men come with a catch, name one who doesn't right NOW and I'll bake you a chocolate chip cookie AND ask for his number) He is involved with the wrong kind of people. So, she decides to move out and live her life, pursue her dreams etc.

It's the melancholic mood of the song, that really grabbed my attention. Why do all us womenfolk flip for the bad guys? Why don't we see, that they're just NOT right for us.

While we'd probably think hours about them and maybe write an entire blog entry on them, they're probably out there getting laid!

So yes, Big Girls Don't Cry! Instead we sit back and ponder for long long hours about pointless things.

PS : I need a nice cup of filter kaapi right now, NOT the fraud cafe coffee day lattes! Thank you very much.

Foot in Mouth Situations..

2008-03-13T05:41:00.001-07:00

Foot in mouth situations and me are BEST FRIENDS! There are certain things i blurt out or type out, which i don't really mean. Unless the person I'm talking to is someone who knows me damn well, he/she would probably misunderstand and come to very warped conclusions about me.

I don't know why i do it or how i do it. It's a mystery AND it's a disease. Groovy eh? *takes a hammer and bangs it on my head*

I just had a foot in mouth situation 5 minutes ago and I feel absolutely foolish. The thing about foot in mouth situations are that you can't undo it. Once an impression is made, its made. You can just kiss everything else goodbye.

*more banging with hammer*

Shakespeare in Love..

2008-03-11T10:04:00.000-07:00

I was 11 years old when i first saw this movie. The dialouges just went over my head, I didn't fancy Joseph Fiennes (the man who played Shakespeare) and as for Gwyneth Paltrow, i just kept thinking : W-O-W! thats one huge head for a wiry little frame.

The womenfolk in the family made a huge fuss over the movie, they spoke about it for days on end but I just didn't get it! A horny man and an equally lust driven woman, who throw themselves on each other every 3rd scene. Ugh and double ugh!

Fast forwarding to 2 hours ago, i was flicking through the movie channels and caught sight of Colin Firth (LOVE the man, thanks to Bridget Jones). But here he was dressed up in a funny puffy outfit, donning a pearl dangly earring on one ear.

I guffawed and turned to Ma; "Your favorite flick". No sooner had the words left my mouth, i caught a dialouge being said, between Colin Firth and another funnily dressed man.

Lord Wessex (Colin Firth): [about Viola] Is she obedient?
Sir Robert de Lesseps (Viola's Father): As any mule in Christendom - but if you are the man to ride her, there are rubies in the saddlebag.
Lord Wessex: I like her!

Now any movie that describes sex like THAT, is definitely worth watching. I sat up a little straighter on my couch now and fluffed up the cushion.

Shakespeare in Love is the story behind Romeo and Juliet. I could absolutely relate to this mad mad writer. He wrote a sonnet each time he kissed his lady love, Viola and he'd spurn out mindblowing dialouges for the play whilst making love to her.

Each time the camera zoomed in on him writing away furiously, dipping his pen in his bottle of ink, his finger nails covered in ink et al, i pictured myself in his shoes.

The rehearsals of the play, Romeo and Juliet come to an abrupt halt, the minute Colin Firth gets wind that his bride to be is sleeping around, with the poverty stricken writer AND rehearsing along with the rest of the cast in the play.

Luckily for Will and co, their rival drama company generously offers them, their stage to rehearse on. So, the show is back on the road.

On the day Romeo and Juliet is staged for the audiences, Viola gets married to Lord Wessex (Colin Firth and Gwyneth Paltrow). As they walk down the church steps, a flyer of the play Romeo and Juliet falls on Paltrow. (Yes, i know very cliched, but nice anyway!)

So she runs to the theatre, does the role of Juliet, and when the play ends, the Queen comes out of the fray (she was amidst the audience, hiding in peasants' clothes) and tells Paltrow to pass on the message to Shakespeare, that she wants a funnier play on the 12th.

And now that my friends, was Shakespeare's next play, titled 'The 12th Night'. It's the story of a woman named Viola, who gets shipwrecked, but manages to fight the currents of the sea and walk on to unknown shores. In Shakespeare's real life, HIS Viola was also leaving him, she was sailing away to a foreign land, with her newly wed spouse.

So basically, Shakespeare implemented bits and pieces of his life into all his plays.

Brilliant brilliant movie! Watch it if you're a whimsical writer who also happens to be a hopeless romantic. *sigh*

Virgin - Tata tie-up..

2008-03-09T08:13:00.000-07:00

Hear ye, hear ye

*blows trumpet*

Virgin will be entering India in collaboration with Tata Teleservices. Virgin will be using its brand name. And Tata will be providing the infrastructure.

Nope, im not Richard Branson's little muse. I'm not here to spread the word and make him profits or make him any richer than he already is. I'm here to salute the brains that went into conceptualizing the Virgin-Tata mobile advertisement, which i saw half an hour ago.

I searched through You Tube in and out for the ad, but i couldn't find it. And therefore, it gives me great honour to describe to you, in detail, about this brilliant ad. *big toothy grin*

We see a young pretty lass drawing back her shirt sleeves (a very masculine gesture) and she announces "Mom dad, I'm not interested in boys"

Our TV frames now fill up, with the dumb struck faces of the mum and dad. The father immediately turns to the mother and whispers angrily "THIS is your fault" The mother whispers something back, equally angry.

They turn to their young daughter with blank expressions, trying not to show the shock and horror of their daughter's revelation and they ask her to elaborate. She replies back cooly again, that she is not into men. PERIOD.

Our TV frames fill up with the parents expressions again. The father's look is ABSOLUTELY priceless. I almost fell off my chair laughing.

Right then, the girl's mobile phone rings. She picks it up and says into the phone "Not now Tansen (or was that Tang Singh?). I'm talking to my parents. Bye" She cuts the phone and throws on a disgruntled look on her face and shakes her head.

Her parents look on with interest and quickly ask. "Who was that beta?"
Girl's Response : Some boy in my MBA class, called Tansen. Wants to go on a trip to Goa. I said i'm not coming.
Dad's Response : So go beta, go. You must take part actively in extra-curricular activities
Mother (whispering frantically into the father's ears) : But Tansen? (disgrunted look)
Father (whispering back) : Whatever, its a BOY. So its all good!

The scene changes to the close up shot of the girl. She is in her bedroom. She picks up her phone and says "Tansen, trip to goa confirmed" And we see her grinning from ear to ear.

Moral of this brilliant ad : Ladies, the next time you want to stay out late with your hot guy friends, pull a Tansen on your parents.

And yes, i will put the ad up here, the minute You tube uploads it! Until then, keep your eyes peeled on your TV screens.

The Ad : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ROFaEycLs_0 Thank you Sangeeta!

Amethyst..

2008-02-28T03:59:00.000-08:00

Amethyst is a nice quaint (now forgotten, thanks to Mocha, Coffee Day, Barista and all the other jazzy coffee pubs which have sprung up in Chennai over the past 5 years) eat out.

This is yet another post on food, so non-foodians look away.

The eternally hungry 8 of us found ourselves in a dilemma, about where to go and stuff our faces today. We kept name swapping restaurants, bunked college after the 1st hour, played a game of our very own YOU KNOW (UNO name modified - it's a group thing, the rest of you can continue calling it UNO), gluged down watermelon juice and finally it hit us - Amethyst. Close in distance (1 minute walk from friends' house) and open at 11.30 am to feed the hungry and famished.

We joined 3 small round tables, plonked ourselves on the nice steel/jute chairs and looked in awe at the amount of greenery around us and the nice shade it provided us, from the intense heat outside. Heaven was right there, i tell you.

The next 1 hour was an insane hogathon. We started with dessert and drinks. I was sharing my dessert (a chocolate brownie with chocolate sause) with Ms Ritu Chaudhary -- the barbarian chocoholic. She grabbed the fork from me and dug it into my hand, each time i tried to eat a bite.

Next, three starters were served to us. Potato wedges with a nice pink dip (too sexy, i could'nt stop licking the little steel bowl, long after the dip was over) , a cheesy strange shaped golden yellow blob with tomato sauce (heaven again) and lastly toasted square slices of bread with mushroom and cheese topping.

Starters done, we clutched our tummies and looked at each other with sheepish grins. No sooner had we done that, our main course was served - 3 varieties of pasta - one with white sauce, one with a green sauce and one with tomato sauce. Yummy in our tummies!

We were now officially stuffed, to the brink. If tribal folk caught us right there and decided to make us their meal, they would've had a ball.

But of course, we did not give up. Overeating is the name of the game children -- read and learn. We ordered dessert again - two pieces of chocolate cake and one plate of brownie with chocolate sauce.

Food has a magical power - It bonds people. You suddenly get all gooey inside and mentally thank the Good Lord for giving you such excellent friends.

Burp and double burp. I dedicate this post to my lovely gang of foodians anonymous (alcoholics anonymous re-named because we are shameless eaters, alcohol is not an addiction for us -- yet!)

Nerdville..

2008-02-24T21:57:00.000-08:00

After 21 years, 25 days and a few minutes here and there (i suck at math, so kindly adjust) later, I'm guilty as charged. I'm a nerd!

I just wrote a paper which I presumed, I hadn't crammed much for. But the minute the question paper was handed to me, my hand shot out like a missile and I finished dot on time. I underlined all the key words, scratched out the wrong words neatly with a pencil, erased all the unnecessary lines out etc. I walked out of the exam hall, with a very elated feeling.

Now, that doesn't make me a nerd. Yes? No? Maybe the next few lines, would change your mind.

I have a Lion King pencil box, (rectangular shaped and light blue) with a small scale, eraser, sharper and 1 small dark green pencil the size of my little finger. My college gear, I'd like to call them. While most people sleep during a lecture, or pretend to listen and space out, I actually listen to every word that comes out of the lecturer's mouth, I take down notes in my school note book (yes, thats right, I still have 25 of my school note books left) and I underline everything with my pencil and my little scale.

"Gayatri, you're such a nerd man. " quoted my friends with sad, disgusted shakes of their heads. I agree. Guilty as charged ladies, guilty as charged.

On the plus side though, I'd make a hot nerd eh? (Yes, I'm fishing for compliments, I'm from fish land after all, if I don't fish, who will?)

Jodhaa Akbar..

2008-02-19T04:07:00.000-08:00

I've been hearing Jashn-e-Baharaa for too long now and after watching the flick yesterday (which was a harebrained last minute plan set to motion, which paid off, so cheers to harebrained schemes, screw advance booking of tickets!) i cant stop singing it, or rather it refuses to leave my mouth. I'm singing it in the shower, while brushing my teeth, riding my bike, mid-way through conversations and through mouthfuls of food.. somebody STOP ME!

Jodhaa Akbar, has SUPER cinematography and excellent camera work. The war sequences were mind-blowing. Hrithik Roshan stole the show as usual, with his larger than life performance and his Greek God looks. Aishwarya (can't stand the woman) surprisingly, did a darn good job playing the role of Jodhaa. There was absolutely zilch over-acting (remember Dhoom 2, Bride and Prejudice *barf and double barf*)

The costumes, the jewellery and the sets were magnificent, i felt i was actually stepping back into the Mughal era. It was absolutely amazing, would be an understatement.

The story though, is okie-okie types. If you're the 'i cant get enough of Mills and Boons' kind of person, Jodhaa Akbar is YOUR flick. For the rest of us semi-sops, drooling at Hrithik and praying that we'd someday marry a dude, who looks just like him will make the flick watchable.

Message to Mayajaal a/c controlling people : 19 Degrees Celsius, are you out of your FREAKIN' MINDS?! Grrr!

Arjun Bhadran

2008-02-15T19:59:00.000-08:00

I haven’t mentioned anything about this man anywhere in this blog, partly because I’m a little scared of him and partly because if I write something not up to his taste, I fear that "Donate your music and movies to adorable younger sister" will stop.

Arjun Bhadran is my brother. I’m alive and kicking today, all thanks to this man. When he was about 7 years old, he asked his mom and dad why their household had only one child, while all the other households had two and three. And lo and behold a handful of months later, a fat kid rolled out of mommy dearest's tum tum.

Growing up with Arjun Bhadran was fun, I have vague memories of going to a pool with him, I’d float around with that ridiculous tube thing around me whilst he splashed around in the deep end with his friends. He was, like all boys his age, restless and eternally playing outside with all the other small boys. One evening, I heard loud bawling and screaming in our living room, I ran as fast as my podgy, fat legs could carry me. I saw the most horrific sight – my brother bleeding profusely and crying his guts out, he was surrounded by all his friends, mom and dad.

For 4 years after that, i’m drawing a complete blank, because I grew up with my grandparents, while he grew up with mom and dad. By the end of the 4th year, he finally came home. Home for me back then was, land of grandparents. I had no clue who my parents were, I just saw a few pictures of them around the house.

His room was a treasure chest for me, whenever he was not around, I’d run up and explore it. His room always smelt nice and even to date, all the rooms that he has inhabited always smell nice, all thanks to the most expensive perfumes he uses. That’s another thing, the man is very classy. He uses only the most expensive products.

Movies and music, are like the back of his hand. He knows who is hot and who is not at the moment. I grew out of my awkward Backstreet Boys phase (yes, I’m not ashamed to admit that I was a HUGE Nick Carter fan and even had an e-mail ID on hotmail - gayatrilovesnicky@hotmail.com, I was a child, and it was the age making me do random appalling things!) and into a metal diva (hehe, or so I want to believe) all thanks to this man.

Growing up, we didn’t squabble much or have fist fights, like most siblings do. Our relationship was built on authority and respect. Or in other words, I had to drop everything and tend to his 'get me a bottle of water from the fridge’, ‘change the channel’, ‘bring me the last piece of the cake’, ‘don’t go through my stuff’ and finally ‘go fetch that cricket ball from the bushes’

Arjun Bhadran is now 28 years old and having the time of his life in Dubai. He came home 2 weeks back and time just flew, literally. Every single day that he was around was filled with some activity or the other. And by activity I mean, not physical (unless of course you consider picking up forks and chewing food with your mouth as physical activity).

I have run out of words now. I have nothing more to say, besides, I don’t want my Dubai goodie distribution to come to an abrupt halt. So, I’ll end this post with three words -- YOU ROCK BRO! \m/

Lunch at Vasavis'..

2008-02-08T04:50:00.000-08:00

Lunch at Vasavis' is no novelty. I'm welcomed into her humble abode, once a month at least, to gorge on her cook Ramu's amazing stuffed parathas, dum aloo, muttar-paneer et al. But this afternoon was a little different.

The gang and i, bunked the last hour of college and rode upto Vasavi's place with salivating mouths and food deprived bellies. (5 hours of no food, IS food deprivation) We climbed up the stairs, rang the door bell and was welcomed by her adorable dog, Simba. He led us to his mistresses' bedroom. On reaching it, we plonked ourselves on bed and chatted up each other over some raw vegetables sprinkled with chilli powder and few squirts of lemon ( I felt like a cow chewing on grass, but as they say, when in Rome be Roman, so when in Cowland be a Cow -- no offence to vegans!).

Salad done, we sat ourselves down, around the table and looked on with anticipation and hungry eyes over the lovely spread before us and within the blink of an eye, the dishes were polished clean. Dessert was served next -- Cookie crumble icecream, with Hide and Seek sprinkles on it.

Few burps and praising our perfect hostess for the lovely spread later, we played a few games of UNO, a fun card game, which I learnt to play today.

Being the slow learner that i am, i goofed up whenever my turn came around to throw a card. A lot of giggling, sweetened popcorn, a pack of Hide and Seek cookies and Ritu's YOU KNOW (instead of UNO) later, the show had finally come to an end.

Oh, how could i forget, we danced along with Bipasha Basu on MTV for her Beedi Jaleile number (we managed to entertain the maid, and piss off the neighbours with all the screaming and jumping) and THEN the show came to an end.

Lunch at Vasavis' shall be cherished for a long long time to come. Ramu bhaiyya, you rock! Keep that stove nice and hot for many more parathas! =)

Transformers..

2008-02-07T00:24:00.000-08:00

Stupid boys and their stupid toys, was the first thing that came into my mind, when my brother picked up the VCD from Odyssey.

Transformers is a crazy 143 minute ratatatatatata, bang bang bang movie which has its share of funny moments. But for the most part, you'd be increasing or decreasing the volume on your DVD player and biting your nails off, hoping that the good guys -- Bumbleebee, Optimus Prime (heroic leader of the Autobots), Jazz, Ironhide, and Ratchet win over the bad guys -- Megatron (the evil Decepticon leader) ,Blackout, Scorponok, Frenzy, Barricade, Starscream, Devastator and Bonecrusher.

I'm not sure, what genre to categorize this flick into -- sci-fi? stupid boys and their stupid toys walking around and squashing things? (THIS should be a genre you know).

The machine thingies were quite nicely done though, i liked them. Very cute indeed! Transformers -- watch it just before a very tough exam, your brain goes into ALERT mode and sleep of course is not an option because you'd be wide awake with all the robotic voices still lingering in your head. *arrr arrrr ARRRR*

Within Temptation..

2008-02-05T06:16:00.000-08:00

"Evanescence who?!" was the first phrase that popped into my brain when i heard The Heart of Everything, the latest album by Within Temptation.

Within Temptation is a symphonic rock band from the Netherlands. The band was founded in 1996 by, dig THIS - vocalist Sharon Del Adel, who by the way, has THE most amazing voice on this planet!! She made me kick myself mentally a few times and reminded me of my glory singing days when mom kept telling me to go for my music classes, but i paid no heed to her, stayed at home instead and ate like a pig all day long.

Respect woman, R-E-S-P-E-C-T. I bow to thee and your lovely throat. Lage raho Sharon babe, lage raho! I am undoubtedly your newest humble fan.

You've Got Mail..

2008-02-04T00:44:00.000-08:00

You've got mail is a movie which was made during the "Internet is amaaaaazing" era, when people had no idea what an E-mail was, what chatting was all about, it was also the time when connecting to the Internet took a little while and a very cute "bzzz uuuuu krrr krrr krrr" noise was produced by our modems. This 10 second noise found people holding their breaths in anticipation and thanking the good lord of technology,when they finally got through.

Finding love online was a novelty then. Now my 10 year old cousin is orkutting so voraciously and chatting up every random girl he meets online, that he puts my 15,000 odd scraps to shame. (Yes, he is a chip of the old block, that little dog!)

Anyway, back to the movie. It is a classic Meg Ryan - Tom Hanks starrer. They send each other uber cheesy e-mails, whilst in real life they cant see eye to eye. Eventually Tom Hanks, discovers that Shopgirl (Meg Ryan's online id) is infact the woman he loathes through and through. He then, takes matters into his hands, befriends her and slowly breaks into her facade and learns that they have a lot in common.

My favorite line in the movie goes something like this -- "The strange thing about communicating like this,is that we eventually end up speaking about nothing. But, all this nothing has meant more to me than so many somethings in my life." I could picture myself saying that one liner to someone special.

I hope i find my NY152 (Tom Hanks' online id) as well. The internet is the only medium where I'm completely myself, uninhibited, fearless and bold.

In real life, I'm almost invisible! I have to scream and jump around to get my point across.

The Making Of I'm Alright Ma..

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

I'm a director once again, for the 3rd time in a row, all thanks to my wonderful course, Bsc Electronic Media. 3 weeks of anticipation, sweat, blood and writing away furiously has all boiled down to almost a whole day of shooting.

I could'nt sleep last night, exactly like all my previous shooting eves. I tossed and turned and thought about each shot, the costumes and re-checked all the dialouges. I woke up dot at 6.40 am, rushed around nervously, had a huge tongue lashing with mom, managed to drag dad out of the shower and drive me to college. On reaching college, i rushed to my video studio, looked around for my sir -- who was'nt around. I begin to sweat profusely now and imagined the worst case scenario - he has forgotten about my shoot, he met with an accident, he's pissed off with me because i'm 9 minutes and 35 seconds late. I paced up and down the studio like a woman possessed and then, lo and behold, in comes sir, with a huge grin on his face.

Me : Siiirrr, i'm soooooooo sorry, how long have you been waiting?
Sir : Wokay wokay ma, no tension, it ees wokay.
Me : Sorry sorry sorry
Sir : Wokay wokay

We (sir and i) begin to load all the equipment in the car's boot. 10 minutes later my hero Mr. Varun Sharma aka Barani and heroine Mrs Rita Sharma aka Sandhya Iyer stride in confidently. Without further ado, we sardined ourselves into the car.

The rest of the day was a blurry haze of dialouge and scene rehearsals, checking and re-checking each frame, screaming at people when needed et al.

Mrs Rita Sharma is a character who is 9 months pregnant, so stuffing a cushion underneath her outfit and tying it with a belt was absolutely hilarious. We giggled for 10 whole minutes, and finally managaed to pull of the "swollen bellied anxious mother" look.

Direction is out and out fun, every moment is an absolute treat for the senses. All the hardwork of weeks and weeks pays off really well at the end of the day.

A day to remember..

2008-01-17T01:45:00.000-08:00

Today has been a mixed day, not good, not bad. Just mixed. Last night i did the unthinkable and i got the result for the act this morning. It was exactly what i expected, a red signal. But i accepted the rejection, with a smile on my face.

I was not happy, but i wasn't sad either. I felt relieved to finally close a chapter in my life and move on. No more questions, no more what ifs and buts. There was a surety to the situation now, I had all the answers i needed.

Nextly, i chatted up with an established Indian writer, who is, at present compiling Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul for Indian readers. She appreciated my writing skills, called me a teenage rebel and asked me to send her more articles, for her yet to be published book.

Call me an arrogant pig or an overconfident buffoon, but i decided not to send her anything more than what i already had, because i fear that she'll flick my ideas and elaborate on the same. She wanted me to add on 2-3 lines more to everything i had sent her. And that i realized is NOT me. I don't want to write for HER, however established she may be. I want to write for MYSELF. I refuse to give a solid conclusion to any of my articles, I want them all to be open ended, left to the readers imagination, vague, unpredictable et al.

I learnt two things today. Firstly, when it comes to matters of the heart, don't hold back, just spit it out and face the music head on. Rejection is a very over hyped thing, it's sad yes, but not 'i cant live anymore' sad. The circle of life shall continue to revolve and rotate.

Secondly, be yourself. Don't change your identity for anyone and someday the world just might appreciate you, just the way you are, irrespective of how deranged and mad you might be. Period.

Heartbreak..

2008-01-14T18:22:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer Note : This is a cheesy post, so non die hard romantics look away!

A boy becomes a man and a girl becomes a woman, the day he/she flips for a person who he/she can't have. I became a woman, when i was 10 years old. I saw Titanic and fell hopelessly head over heals in love with Leo Di Cap. I cried through the nights, chewing my sister's head off, asking her a million times why the ugly red headed broad hadn't died instead of my very first love.

She laughed!! Hearing her squeals of laughter, I cried harder and my heart, i could actually feel it breaking. The pain in my chest was so acute, i couldn't breathe.

Food lost it's taste, sleep was a forgotten best friend. And then, a nerdy looking 11 year old moved in next door. He was my "get back on the horse of love" boy. We spent time pulling off silly pranks and eating. I moved on with life and the pain of loosing Leo wasn't so bad anymore.

Meeting this 11 year old, was a turning point in my life. I realised right then, that i will someday flip for and marry an intellectual nerd.

Sadly, the flipside of intellectual nerds are, they're eternally busy. They have no time for women, in fact i suspect they don't give women a priority at all. So even if a woman hints subtly or screams on his face "I like you" he'll just walk away.

Online Fraainships and Louships..

2008-01-09T02:27:00.000-08:00

Before i begin, let me clarify that the title of this post has been mis-spelt on purpose. The world of Internet socialising is not new to me. I've been a voracious YAHOOer, MSNer, GTALKer, ORKUTter and now add to that list FACEBOOK! I'm still figuring out how to use that last one by the way.

It all began when i was in class 8 and daddykins took fancy to a huge white box that looked a little bit like our old Television set. According to one of the girly fashion magazines i was hooked on to back then, this huge white contraption was what people called a "Computer" and you could "chat" with it. I didn't hesitate for a nanosecond. I spun out a yahoo chat id and a yahoo e-mail id, logged on to the yahoo chat rooms and voila, the metamorphosis from book-lover to useless Internet junkie was complete.

I just could NOT get offline! My fingers were glued to the keyboard and i was talking non-stop with my mouth tightly shut. Sometimes I'd forget to pee, eat, sleep etc whilst chatting. Finally, i had to go to Internet rehab to cure the disease. And Internet rehab for me was class 12. The books called out to me, rather screamed out to me and chatting was forgotten temporarily.

Right now, almost 3 years of college done and 8 years of chatting later, i would call myself a semi Internet socializer. I still love meeting people and talking for long hours (because some habits are hard to kill), but now i know, nothing beats offline socialising. The flesh and blood people we meet in our day to day life are pretty much the only folks we can sort of trust. (Read again : SORT OF trust)

Onliners are scary with a capital S-C-A-R-Y, trust me blindly on that folks!

My Family..

2008-01-02T04:05:00.000-08:00

Family gives us an identity - both personally and in social circles. This was one of the characteristics of the term 'Family' i learnt in class 7 or was it class 3 now? School was not my happy place, so i don't remember the nitigrities too well.

My family, like all other Indian families i suppose takes this above mentioned trait to a whole new level. I could call myself, Gayatri Bhadran - almost graduate, fraud mallu, potential field journalist, wannabe Bipasha Basu et al.

But in THIS family, I am the great granddaughter of C. Keshavan - writer, freedom fighter, philosopher, the very first Chief Minister of Kerala state. Or i could call myself Gayatri Bhadran, youngest granddaughter of Captain P Thyagarajan - Deputy Port conservator, a very charming, dashing merchant navy officer who had a tale or two to tell - which would either leave people completely shocked and at a loss for words or it would leave them amused and in splits of laughter.

When i was younger, I LOVED family get togethers, back then Family Gatherings = Loads of good food, mischief and 25-30 equally crazy, mad cousins who'd help me with my pranks.

But the older i got, I began to loathe these family gatherings. There were too many nameless faces who walked up to me and enquired with glee, "Gaayaaatri, do you remember meee?" and right there I'd find myself in a tight spot.

Aunts of all shapes and sizes draped in expensive sarees, looking everyone up and down and commenting on how much weight has been gained or lost, where they got their earrings from, who is the prospective groom X for bride Y - that lucky girl, she has quite a catch, the servant lady ran away with the driver man - and so and on and so forth. Juicy tidbits of gossip always float around these women.

The uncles on the other hand are loud, huge, boisterous and crack dirty jokes like nobody's business. They claim to know all about computers, IT professions, fitness regimes and who Bollywood's sweetheart is at the moment.

Yesterday, after a grueling zillion hour train ride, I stepped foot on God's Own Country - my native town - Trivandrum or Thiruvananthapuram (Phew!) No sooner had i reached home and bear hugged my grandmother, she announced that I must get ready A.S.A.P and rush to a close relatives' house as it was the 16th day function of his late wife and as a passing comment she mentioned that i looked emaciated and food deprived.

15 minutes later, we ( mom, gran and me) squeezed ourselves into a Maruti Wagon R and headed off to the relative's house. All eyes were on us latecomers (a few disapproving glances and head shakes) as we got out of the car.

The widower, one of my grandfathers (i have roughly around 10 grandmothers and grandfathers - its all part of being a malayalee) looked up from his food and teared. We rushed to his side, hugged and kissed him and then seated ourselves for an elaborate, sumptuous Sadhya (a typical south Indian vegetarian meal served on a banana leaf)

Sadhya done, I chatted up one of my favourite uncles ( yes, again i have a million uncles and aunts) said polite hellos to the aunts and then settled down with all my uncles.

The next 2 hours were a blurry haze of nonsensical chatter, huge bellies wobbling with laughter, crude comments and of course dirty jokes (this goes without saying you know)

MY FAMILY - You'll either fall completely hopeless head over heals in love with them OR you'd loathe them at sight. But i assure you, if you stick around a while, they'll grow on you and before you know it, you'll be one of them.

Junk Jewellery..

2008-01-01T02:02:00.000-08:00

Junk jewellery is not a style statement. It is a way of life for me. I live for junk jewellery. I have 5 boxes of it and I have been collecting it from road sides, from fancy overpriced malls and from vendors (after bargaining my ass off). My collection is not just confined to the streets of Chennai, I would like to think of it as a global/national collection. Ever since i was 10 years old, I've had an eye for junk trinkets.

So naturally, it goes without saying, wherever i go my junk jewellery follows suit. While packing my bags for a quick 5 day vacation, i don't pack the essentials like toothbrush, kaajal, shoes, underwear etc, i pack my junk. I take them all out of their boxes, re-arrange them, put them back inside their boxes, tie the boxes with 2 strings and then put these boxes overflowing with my neatly arranged jewellery into plastic bags, which i fold and refold and tie with strings again.

Every year, my mother and i have a 2 minute tongue lashing which goes like so :

Mum : Don't take everything, just take a few earrings, chains, bangles and bracelets. You're going for a very short trip, how much are you going to wear anyway? Listen to me, you're coming back alone, you'll have to lug it all back.
Me : Okie mum

Mum : So you wont take them all?
Me : Okie mum, whatever you say.

Mum : So you wont?
Me : Yes, i wont take a few earrings, chains and blah like you said. I'll take them all.

Mum : How foolish can you be?
Me : Okie mum

The joys of being a woman lies in those 5 boxes, i would'nt trade them for anything in the world!

A Lot Like Love..

2007-12-29T00:54:00.000-08:00

Oliver and Emily are two totally deranged souls who keep meeting each other over a span of seven whole years. They become acquaintances and then close friends; going through different partners (READ : lousy love lives) and careers at the same time.

The relationship between the two is portrayed perfectly, its not overdone, its not under-done. It's real. Absolutely anyone who has ever had a crush on a person, at a point of time and then drifted apart from that person, became friends with that person and ultimately said bye to that person and made peace with the whole thing, can relate to this movie.

It has a happy ending of course, because its a movie after all, what do you expect? Good soundtrack, Ashton Kutcher was his usual cute self and Amanda Peet (who is she again?) did a fairly decent job.

A must watch flick on a boring Saturday afternoon with a belly full of Mooli Parathas. *burps*

Taare Zameen Par..

2007-12-26T08:40:00.000-08:00

Dyslexia. I didn't give the word or the disease/disability much thought until 3 hours ago. Dyslexia is, according to Wikipedia, a specific learning disability that manifests primarily as a difficulty with written language, particularly with reading and spelling. It is separate and distinct from reading difficulties resulting from other causes, such as deficiencies in intelligence, a non-neurological deficiency with vision or hearing, or from poor or inadequate reading instruction.

Mind boggling eh? Albert Einstein, Tom Cruise, Keanu Reeves, Pablo Picasso, Cher, Muhammad Ali and Tommy Hilfiger were all dyslexic. People with dyslexia view the world with a different eye, their brains are trippy machines which spew out ideas no mortal being can fathom.

Aamir Khan's Taree Zameen Par sheds light on this disability in a very tear jerking, thought provoking manner. The things which we take for granted in our day-to-day life is a huge pain in the butt for these folks. The child actor, Darsheel Safary was just too cute. Each time he cried, got bullied by kids and was generally down in the dumps, i felt like giving him HUGE bear hugs, slobbering him with kisses and stuffing him with cookies and chocolate milk.

It's a MUST watch flick especially for children, for parents, for to-be-parents and of course for the rest of us non parents and non children.

The Lake House..

2007-12-17T01:57:00.001-08:00

Disclaimer Note : This movie is meant only and ONLY for the die hard soppy romantics who tear every half an hour.

Clearly, i LOVED it, why else would i post about it eh? It was cheesy, slower than a snail crawling a wall and right out of a Mills and Boons book.

Don't use logic or your brains too much while watching this movie. Just relish every minute of it. Drink in every detail about the joys/sorrows of falling in love with a person you can probably never meet.

Does this kind of love exist, how can someone be so in love with someone else i kept asking myself through the whole movie. Love does not come from throwing around material possessions at each other and calling each other every second and mooning with each other. Love is.. What is Love? A pain right there in the middle of your chest, a tingly feeling of anticipation, dressing up and looking your best. What is Love?

Movies, the surreality, makes me go :( and :/ Why cant real life be just like the movies? Or are we living our lives at jet speed and forgetting to actually LIVE it.

Temptation..

2007-12-16T17:36:00.000-08:00

One more kiss could be the best thing

Or one more lie could be the worst

And all these thoughts are never resting

In my head there's only you now

This world falls on me

In this world there's real and make believe

And this seems real to me

And you love me but you don't know who I am

I'm torn between this life I lead and where I stand

And you love me but you don't know who I am

So let me go, let me go..

These are the lyrics of Let Me Go by Three Doors Down. And i think it BEST describes this particular human emotion, TEMPTATION.

What differentiates us from the 10th grader who was up to no good and living a life of a rebel, from a grown up woman, whose priorities are nothing spectacular, (aka a good job, a settled non wild child life) is temptation.

The really yummy fun things in life are all merely momentary pleasures. Once you've gone through the act, it hits you hard, very HARD and then you slap yourself on the forehead and say out loud, "I've lost it, somebody stop me or throw me into the nearest asylum"

I have sobered down a LOT, thanks to college and thanks to a very sober bunch of women who keep me on a leash. Thank you ladies, thank you.

But every now and then, the wild side says, "Hello darling, did you miss me? I missed you too. Come to momma" Last evening was a very testing couple of hours for me. I bit down crazy wild lunatic me and i finally behaved my almost 21 years of age, I'm old i realize and i cant blame my behaviour on "racing hormones" anymore.

Temptation. Overcoming it, is damn hard and it might kill you a little, but the point is, its the RIGHT thing to do. So don't think, just slap temptation hard on the face and ask her to take a freaking hike. Amen!

I’m Alright Ma..

2007-12-11T07:42:00.000-08:00

Varun Sharma was a very naughty little boy, who had a love for toy guns and war movies at a very young age. So it did not come as a surprise to the family, when he decided to join the Indian Army right after his Bsc Zoology course.

He excelled in his chosen career and he was very happy to be serving his country. He was itching to get into some “real action” and his prayers were answered in the year 1999. Varun was deployed to the icy heights of Kargil, a remote region in the state of Jammu and Kashmir.

The whole nation stood like a rock behind the men fighting a war forced upon India by Pakistan. Mothers lost sons, wives lost husbands and children lost their fathers.

Varun’s family, which included his parents and his pregnant wife, waited anxiously for his phone calls. He always managed to sound cheery and optimistic, but the strain in his voice was loud and clear.

The news channels declared more and more casualties in the Indian Army and Varun lost many of his friends at war.

On July 26th Varun’s wife went into labour in the wee hours of the morning. So Varun’s parents rushed to the hospital to look up their daughter in law and waited patiently for the arrival of their very first grandchild.

The baby was not due for another 3 hours, so the elders decided to take a quick nap in one of the waiting rooms.

Mid way through her sleep, Varun’s mother woke up with a start on hearing Varun’s voice.

"Ma" Varun said.

She turned over and blinked in the dim light coming from the streetlamp outside the hospital window. Varun was standing beside the bed, gazing down at her tenderly. She sat up immediately.

"Varun!!" she gasped.

He smiled and sat down beside her, as he had often done when he was little. He took her hand and said: "I want you to know how much I appreciate you and Dad. It couldn't have been easy, raising a head-strong boy like me, but you did a wonderful job."

Varun's words filled her with a great joy and a terrible fear. Tears sprang to her eyes. He gently wiped away her tears with his finger. "I came to tell you that I am all right. Take care of my little baby girl for me."

"We will," she managed to say, realizing at last what this visit meant.

"I love you, Ma. We'll be together again real soon," Varun said. He leaned forward, kissed her on the cheek, and then he was gone.

She fell back against the pillows, too stunned even to weep. Her husband, who was a heavy sleeper, woke when he felt the bed jerk. He rolled over and mumbled: "Are you all right?"

"Something has happened to Varun," she said, too grief-stricken to be tactful. "I think he's dead."

Her husband jerked awake. "What?!" he exclaimed fearfully.

And on cue, they heard the voice of a baby crying out and a nurse came in holding a small bundle in her hand.

“Congratulations grandma and grandpa, it’s a little girl” And the nurse smiled brightly at them.

The language of silence..

2007-12-06T06:45:00.000-08:00

It's so damn easy to just keep talking and talking and talking AND TALKING. There are the listeners and then there are the yappers. Both kind, are dangerous and unstable. The listeners may listen with interest or pretend to listen, the yappers are cool people WHEN they make sense, if not its sheer torture.

I had to attend a lecture today, actually i have to attend this lecture EVERYDAY until the 17th of December. It's a soft skill course, where we're given credits. Today was class five for me out of 15 classes. The lady was painful to say the very least, i dozed off and even snored a little until i felt my friend's finger jab my ribcage requesting me to shut my gob and snore softly. So yes, it goes without saying I'm a pathetic listener. Leaving boring lectures aside, I space out when friends talk as well. I'm like Joey, i just nod along and laugh if everyone else is doing it, or i frown and look pissed off IF everyone else is doing it.

My friends on the other hand are darn good listeners, they're more mind readers and face readers than listeners. Just a slight facial expression is enough for them to shoot out ; "Alright lady, what did you do this time? Spit it out you idiot" And of course i spill my guts out for a very verrrryyy looo-hooong time.

I'm not a whine, but if given the opportunity, i could whine on and on and on and make even the happiest person around me gloomy. And if I'm happy i could go on and on about that too and make the saddest person around me slightly happier.

I personally don't think I talk a lot, but people who know me claim i don't know the meaning of the word silence. If that is indeed the case, i hope I'm an interesting yapper and not the boring kind.

Language of Silence. Profound indeed. But what the hell is it exactly? *scratches head*

The hairy stink bomb..

2007-12-01T22:39:00.000-08:00

I had to do 30 hours of community service in the first year of college. So the gang and i, went to this old age home in Porur, called Little Drops. Getting there was a task in itself. We met at college, took 2 buses to reach Porur, walked from the Porur bus-stand for 15 - 20 minutes to this godforsaken location. Once we reached there, all calm prevailed; we'd drink loads of water, freshen up and get busy with the old folks. Cutting their nails, feeding them, talking to them, making merry etc. Old folks are fun to be around.

At the end of the day, we'd bid adieu and head back home, back to this treacherous journey of 2 buses. By the time I reached home, I'd be so pooped, someone would have to bathe and feed me. And I'd recall the day's events in my head, and thank the good Lord, for giving me such a comfortable life. Eating on these days was out of the question, because all through the day my nose would be subject to the most horrible smells, and to get those bad smells out of my system took another 24 hours.

Today, i had a similar experience. Not at an old age home, at gym. A 15 minute run on the threadmill later, i was panting, puffing and breathing in huge gulps of air, when suddenly i smelt something, something worse than rotten tomatoes and rotten eggs combined. It was nauseating. I turned to look at the direction of the smell. He was big hairy and wearing too little clothes. Apparently he was quite proud of his disproportioned eye sore flabby body. I applaud the man for that, because if I was him, I'd be caught dead in that outfit in the loo, let alone a public place with civilized human beings around.

I looked at him once more, pleading silently with my eyes "go away, walk on another treadmill" and i gripped my towel tightly around my nose to emphasize this non verbal plea. But he mistook my plea, he conjured it up as non verbal flirting instead and gave me a huge toothy grin. I felt like a soldier fighting for her survival. I kept chanting in my mind "I cannot die, today, not here, not like this. I have too many responsibilities on my shoulder." And i took few deep gulps of air, (quite similar to what deep sea divers would do, before taking a plunge) and kept walking. Next, I tried breathing through my mouth, instead of my nose.

And lo and behold, there are moments in my life, when I truly realize the meaning of the words "Divine Superpower and Lord Almighty", the man thing fell off his threadmill, moaned for 5 seconds like a sleepy hippopotamus, clutched his sad excuse of a bum and walked away. Fresh air, never smelt so much better. *gasps*

Life In A Metro..

2007-11-24T23:48:00.000-08:00

We live in a selfish world. A world where the thin line between love and lust are blurred. A world where technology makes life easy for us, but the very same technology adds on to our day to day stresses. A world where, people would do absolutely anything to climb up the corporate ladder.

But admist all the madness, there still is some innocence left in our hearts. Some of us choose to see it and act upon it. The majority of us bite it down and adapt to the situation at hand. We leave the things and the people we love in search of something better.

Life In a Metro is OUR story. The story of ordinary human beings, who make choices and live with those choices, happily or with sadness.

School..

2007-11-23T15:48:00.000-08:00

School.. For most people, it was the age of joy, bliss and innocence. But i was a sick kid, (no REALLY, there was no innocence whatsoever, i was a pervert then and i suppose i still am) and i had a bunch of very deranged friends. All in all, school was not my happy place. The happiest day of my school life, was when i passed out. I laughed the loudest and ate the most for my farewell, whilst everybody else were sad and gloomy.

Now after saying the afore mentioned you'd presume, I'd never go back to school. But life as they say, is weird with a capital W-E-I-R-D. I met all my 11th and 12th grade teachers today and a few others. I don't remember the conversations now, it was a blurry haze of words, summarising each other's lives of 3 whole years.

My goals and objectives in life, became more sharper and clearer after having spilt my guts out to all of them. I knew right then, I had to do something really mind-blowing in the next 1 year, namely : Be Barkha Dutt version 2.0

Although i hated school and everything about it, with every last nerve in my body, today was the best day ever. I feel so content and at peace.

The cute hairdresser boy..

2007-11-21T00:11:00.000-08:00

A man who goes clip clip clip with scissors to cut hair. Nothing can get hotter than THAT. For a beauty parlour to do good sales, all they'd have to do is employee ONE very cute hairdresser boy who talks smooth, looks like your next boyfriend and has the most piercing gaze. *sigh* I think I'm in love.

What started out as a very boring day (a trip to the doctor, a trip to the nearest diagnostic center) ended with a trip to the beauty parlour. I don't generally get too excited about beauty parlour trips, but this morning, I could smell something in the air, woman's intuition told me that good karma was in the air and i was in for something exciting.

Mum wanted to give her hair a trim, i didn't protest, i just nodded along absently to the words coming out of her mouth. We parked the car on the street, walked down the street to the beauty parlour block, climbed up the stairs, reached the foamy glass door of the parlour, opened it and VOILA, our eyes met. He was a Greek God.

He was not too tall, not too short, just the height i liked, he donned a small diamond stud on his ear, had a smart pair of jeans on, very nice sneakers and a smart shirt. And he was cute. Not the boy next door type cute, but the OH MY GOD i think I just died and went straight up to heaven type cute.

I decided very impulsively to get a pedicure, partly because i care about my legs, they're legs after all, we need to take care of them, and mostly because i wanted cute thing to see my gorgeous legs. *evil grin*

Mum took her seat and the man began to clip her hair. I envied mum for the very first time in my life, i wished i was sitting on that seat and his fingers were running through my hair. I couldn't take my eyes off him, he was a complete professional, very focused, very dedicated, he had on a very serious expression whilst chopping mum's tresses. And at the end of it he advised her on the hair products to use and how to comb her hair. I was blown away. This man knew hair care like the back of his hand. I fell a little more in love with him now.

He finished off faster than my pedicure lady, which gave us some time to discreetly look at each other and then pretend we're not looking at each other. I wished he'd drop a note off with his number on it while walking past me. No such luck though.

Rest assured, i shall be a very regular customer. Pedicures say hello to your newest friend.

My Ammumma and Appuppa..

2007-11-17T08:05:00.000-08:00

The title of this post is the very first Malayalam words i have ever used on this blog, which stands for, "My Grandmother and Grandfather"

When i was 3 years old, i got a very severe attack of Bronchial Asthma. My dad was posted in Calcutta then. Each trip to the hospital was hoped to be the last, but the Asthma kept getting worse, i don't remember much about the disease, except being injected with needles in both hands all through the day, with tubes all over my body and running around in the hospital hall and playing with the other kids there, until the Doctor came on his rounds. Then we all had to be "Good children" and lie on our beds for the next 5 minutes.

After being hospitalised for a month,with no sign of recovery, the only solution, was to take me to a less polluted city. And so, Trivandrum became my home for the next 6 years. I stayed along with my Ammu and Appu.

Ammu and Appu had a nice big house with hens and dogs and a huge compound with trees. 3 year old me was in heaven. And it goes without saying, i was spoilt rotten.

My Ammu has six siblings in total and my Appu had three. All of them came home everyday of every week armed with toys and chocolates. I titled myself "Princess Hemagiri" and bossed over all the grown-ups. (Hemagiri is the name of Ammu and Appu's house by the way)

Taking me to school everyday was my Appu's job. I used to cry all the way from home till the front gate of the school, then dragged Appu along with me to my classroom, gripping his fingers with one hand and stuffing a handkerchief inside my mouth with the other hand.

Every Friday, Appu did a pooja for me at a Ganesha temple, the Prashad was some sweetened bananas, which i ate like a pig, without sharing with anyone, not even Appu.

Saturdays was Rasna day. Appu used to mix the Rasna powder along with the water concentrate in a huge steel vessel. Next he poured it into glass bottles and stored them all away in the "meatsafe" (a cupboard with loads of junk food). Next me and him drank a glass each of Rasna, with very little water and loads of the Rasna. Highly concentrated sugar syrup, in other words.

Sunday was Fun-Day in Appu land. His definition of a peg of alcohol was very warped. He had one huge elephant sized glass, which he never washed and he gluged 2 pegs (4 pegs considering the size of the glass) along with sweetened peanuts, fried peanuts, roasted peanuts and various varieties of the peanut possibly invented by mankind.

Ammu was in charge of feeding, dressing, making me do home work, taking me to temples etc. And each ritual had to be done keeping in mind various factors. For example, my hair had to be standing on my head like a rocket-spider, the pony must come in the middle of my head (resembling a rocket) and spread out around my head (resembling the legs of a spider). Breakfast had to be fed to me ONLY after wearing my tie and not before wearing my socks.

And as for the temples, i lost track of how many i went to with Ammu. Even now in fact, when i go to some of the temples in Kerala, the poojaris look at me, smile and ask "Indira ammede kochu molle alle?" which means are'nt you Mrs Indira's granddaughter?

I slept between Ammu and Appu till i was 10 years old. It was my job to switch off the lights and cover them both with bedsheets.

To make a long story short, Ammu and Appu became my everything. So, when Dad got posted to Chennai and it was decided that I'd come and live with Mom and Dad, my world came crashing around me. I couldn't leave my Hemagiri and everything inside it. I begged mum and dad to just leave me alone and go away. But, every child has to live with her parents eventually, so i was introduced to the city of Chennai and the Cooum River.

As the years flew by, i remembered less and less of Malayalam, the city of Trivandrum and i began missing my Ammu and Appu lesser and lesser.

The yearly trips to Trivandrum during X-Mas hols and summer vacation was always done with a hope of coming back to my adopted home-town as soon as possible.

My Appu passed away when i was in the 11th standard. It came as a shock to the entire family because he was only 77, walked everyday, drove around in his Maruti 800 and brought groceries and fish for the house, managed all the finances and the plumbing, fed the dogs and the fishes everyday, tinkered around with the pump attached to the well.. It was not his time, it was just NOT his time. My faith in God went down completely, I became an Atheist, refusing to even look at the prayer room in the house.

I had dreams of Appu very often and i heard his voice calling out my name. Either i didn't want to let him go, or he was still around. I want to believe he was still around, trying to console me.

Ammu now, had to live all alone in that big house. And i felt guilty because i didn't want to live in Trivandrum anymore, i wanted to keep my Ammu company but i just couldn't.

2 hours ago i called Ammu and spoke to her. After hanging up, i cried for 45 minutes, because she sounded very weak.

I wonder whether I'm leading a selfish life, i wonder if i should go back to my roots and look after the things and the individuals who were instrumental for my being here today.

High On You..

2007-11-17T03:09:00.000-08:00

There are some who walk into our lives and stay for an eternity,

There are others who walk in and walk out faster than a lightening strikes the face of the earth,

Then I met the third kind..

And you know, I’m such a fool for you,
You got me wrapped around your little finger
But I choose not to say a word, I choose the path of silence..

Stay a while Angel boy, you could stay a while
And lets shake things up,
Come again and tell me what you’re going through..

Sit up straight and look at me
Leave some crazy memories behind..

In you, I see a new life again
You’ve opened my eyes to something unknown and exciting..

This is the way I want to be with you,
I don’t want to hide away..

I want to bask in your light for a while,
You’re the rainbow in my ocean of clogged thoughts..

Children..

2007-11-16T20:28:00.001-08:00

I've never liked them. Leaving out the tiny outfits and the cute slippers, whats the high? I'm sure i hated myself when i was a kid. They bite, scratch, throw up, say mean things and they always manage to get their way.

But this morning, something happened. I was in the kitchen making some toast, when the auntie next door waved hello and we struck up a conversation. A few seconds later, i heard the little monster's anklets and desperate squeals of "Akka Akka". Auntie immediately lifted the thing up and put it on the kitchen counter. I looked into that small face and i saw pure undiluted joy. I'd never seen someone looking more happier on seeing me. She was gurgling incoherently as usual, while auntie translated everything for me. A 10 minute nonsense conversation and a flying kiss later, i was back to attending to my toast, which was now burnt.

What is the point of this post you wonder, why am i rambling on and on about a child and burnt toast. The point is this : Kids are genuine, honest and in your face. So, when it comes to kids, trust them blindly and shove your head up in the clouds, because they accept you for who you are and they will never hurt you to the point of insanity.

What is life..?

2007-11-13T20:53:00.000-08:00

Swimming in a mini ocean womb for 9 months, finally seeing the light of day at the end of the 9th month, screaming your guts out because you're in shame shame puppy shame outfit and the whole world is ogling at you.. Is that life?

Growing up, being bullied by siblings, screaming for attention, getting things done by biting and scratching the nearest arm or leg, being the youngest kid and naturally a spoilt brat of a loud crazy family.. Is that life?

Going to school, making fling friends, real friends, best friends, true friends, fake friends, close friends and finally loosing touch with all of them unknowingly.. Is that life?

The half child, half adult college goer who has the time of her life, given all the freedom in the world, painting the town red and then realizing she has to loose weight and throws herself into the cause whereby falling sick every 3rd month and looking more and more like Dracula's kid sister (because of the pale whitish face, all thanks to anemia).. Is that life?

Again i ask you.. What is life and are we living it the right way?

Ritu-ness..

2007-11-13T00:34:00.000-08:00

Ritu. I didn't give the name or the person a second thought in the 1st semester of college. She was a pesky kid with glasses and way too many teeth. She was always butting into our scheme of action and ruining our well laid out ideas. She cried too much and spoke funny. She wasn't exactly one of my favourite people.

And then something happened. Female bonding. Ritu was no longer the pesky soda putti girl, she became close friend, confidante and source of all craziness to our somewhat sober group. She rubbed off the madness and now we can't do without her. Days without Ritu are boring, dull and monotonous.

So, when i saw Ritu walking in today after a zillion days (she had taken study leave to prepare for CAT) i sprung up like the famous cuckoo in the cuckoo clock, screeched Riiiiiitttuuuuuuuuuu and gave her a HUGE spot jogging falling on her like a sack of potatoes hug. And i wouldn't have let her go, if not for my friend Megha's breathless gasps. We had managed to flatten Megha's nose in the process of potato hug.

The rest of the day was a blur of activity, with everyone vying for Ritu's attention. And i spilt my guts out as well, telling her about the boy who has been running around in my brain like a chimpanzee for the past zillion weeks and we did a detailed analysis of his zodiac sign, dissecting every possible aspect of this new development, whether it has a future or whether I'm being stupid and wasting my time.

We bunked the last hour, walking out like soldiers on a mission with Megha and Vani on the lead. Meghs looked very confident and declared to the watchman, that college was done for the day whilst Ritu and i tried our best to suppress squeals of laughter, because we're lousy liers. We ran out quickly before the man could put two and two together.

5 minutes later we were seated at the brand new ice cream parlour which opened out nearby, walloped tiny blow up your nose proportions of fancy ice cream for which we payed through our noses.. again.

Finally it was time to say bye all over again to Ritu for 5 whole days. I gave her another signature G-Hug, wished her luck and walked away with Meghs.

God, Ritu and certain 'boy' have one common underlying thread. They work in mysterious ways, leaving behind them a trail of happy faces, light hearts and lifted spirits.

Kaakha Kaakha..

2007-11-10T21:41:00.000-08:00

I could'nt pronounce the title properly back in 2003, when it was first released and folks made fun of me, asking me why i was squaking like a crow, and now if i dont hear a person pronouncing the title correctly with stresses at all the right places, i'll either pinch them or make them repeat after me 15 times or more.

I love this movie would be an understatement. I'm obssessed with this movie. I've seen it more than 55 times, by hearted all the dialouges and scenes part by part and i get so involved in the movie, its not a pretty sight. I scream and yell along with the 4 cops each time they beat the shit out of a rapist/pervert/kidnapper bad guy.

The very last scene where Anbuchelvan stabs Pandiya with a knife a few million times, with flashes of all his loved ones battered and bruised running through his head was the most intense of all the scenes. Surya is an absolutely brilliant actor and i dont think anyone else could've done justice to the role of ACP Anbuchelvan.

Kaakha Kaakha is THE BEST cop movie ever made in the history of Tamil cinema, or maybe Indian cinema for that matter.

What women want..

2007-11-07T19:17:00.000-08:00

This is my 100th post, and i thought the best way to celebrate it would be to spill some deep dark secrets of womankind. So listen up gentlemen, keep your eyes on focus and your writing pads ready. Or you can just read this post a few 100 times and memorise the following.

1. No woman gets up every morning from her bed thinking, "I wish i DON'T get swept off my feet today. I wish i DON'T meet Mr. Right"

2. When a woman says, "I'm really focused on my career right now, i don't have time for a relationship" what she's really saying is try harder stupid or yea sure we can go out sometime, sometime called never and a place called never land.

3. Women never make the first move. This depends from woman to woman. Personally, I'd NEVER make the first move. I prefer leaving strong hints, which clearly screams out, "I like you, you dumbass, so ask me out already"

4. Women love listeners. We love talking. So when we talk, LISTEN to what we're saying. Don't look at our lips, don't look at our gorgeous assets. (I meant the amazing hair, you pervert!) So at the end of our HUGE monologue, when its your turn to talk, we'd appreciate it, if you could say something other than, "i love your lips."

5. This overlaps with point number 4. Make intelligent conversation. This is a HUGE turn on.

6. Appreciate women. Treat us like goddesses. Showering us with expensive gifts is not counted. Spending time with us, giving us a little bit of attention, say 10 minutes, would be more than enough. But the entire 10 minutes must be spent with the woman in question wholeheartedly and with enthusiasm.

7. When you say things, anything at all, really MEAN it, otherwise don't say it altogether.

8. Chocolates and flowers work. ALWAYS. Especially when she's angry and wants to grill you over a hot oven.

DAV Girls Senior Secondary School, Gopalapuram..

2007-11-02T07:49:00.000-07:00

The name send shivers down my spine 3 years back, and it still does. Hell has a name and a form ladies and gentlemen -- D. A. V.. Brr!

I was sucked dry, every little drop of sanity i had in me was thrown to the winds. I wasn't exactly acing all my subjects or my class, i was a less than average student and scrapping through was a HUGE deal for me. I became something of a nerd in class 12, studying consumed all my spare time. But i still managed to flunk in all my subjects sparing English. I loved my English teacher, infact I've loved ALL my English teachers, right from LKG to 2nd year of college. I've always been ALL my English teachers pet. I loved them and they loved me. I'd do anything for these women. And naturally, i aced English every time.

Now back in 12th grade, i had a sweetheart of an English teacher. Her name was Jyotsna Nair. She was ever supportive and ever encouraging through all my single digit performances.

After passing out from D.A.V i swore to myself I'd never go back there ever again. But today, i had a very strong urge to see JN ma'am. So right after college today, i drove upto school. Just walking in gave me cold feet and my throat felt dry and scratchy.

I walked up to the school office, asked the nasty office lady (who hasn't changed a bit, she was evil then, and now shes become eviler).

Me : Where is JN ma'am?
Evil scum : She hasn't come today. *evil grin*
Me : OH no!
ES : You're an old student no?
Me : Yes
ES : Who are you?
Me : Gayatri. What about Baby Rani ma'am?
ES : Only if she is in the staffroom you can meet her. *wriggles skinny evil fingers at me*
Me : Right!

So i walked up the hallowed corridors of Hell once again and strangely, i felt very nostalgic and just about managed to control a tear drop or two. I walked by 5D, 9A, 11B, 12B.. All my classrooms. They were all tightly shut and i didn't want to disturb the classes. So i walked away.

But before that, i DID go to the staffroom and bumped into my Hindi teacher, who i wasn't exactly fond of in class 6, but because she gave me a huge toothy grin, i had to go in and say hello, and she told me that if i had come 15 minutes earlier i could have met everyone.

This post shall continue, because my work here is not done. JN ma'am awaits me, or rather I'm dying to see her. Either way, this post shall continue. Stay tuned folks.

Go Getters..

2007-10-30T06:40:00.000-07:00

Go Getters is the name of my production, which was screened today along with 46 other individual documentaries and docu-dramas. We had an external examiner from the Film Institute and all our confidence levels were zilch. We had absolutely NO faith in our documentaries and we were all nervous as hell.

Finally my chance arrived and the hot seat was mine for the next 30 minutes. The lights went off, Venus Productions, with my editing sir's meticulously crafted 3Ds Max Logo flashed on screen with some killer background music. The name of the show Go Getters flashed on the big screen, next the shot of a colorful palette with colours getting mixed flashed on, the next shot was of groups and groups of chirpy women, with my Voice Over (which actually sounded damn sexy.. whew). *evil grin*

At the end of the documentary my Voice Over went like so; "Thank you god, thank you for making me a woman". Killer background music again, and i heard clapping. Loud enthusiastic clapping. That moment was absolutely priceless. All my nervousness went down the gutter.

The audience actually LIKED my documentary. I felt myself swelling up with pride and i realized that, I'm officially an amateur movie-maker types person.

All the days of running around, getting permission for locations and getting my script approved from my horrible adamant stubborn professor was all completely worth it just for that one single moment. The VIVA was a complete cake walk after that. I chatted up the man for 10 minutes, left him smiling and amused. There was one question which he asked though, that left me quite surprised. He asked me what i wanted to do, what my dream was. And without a hesitation or a second thought, i said i wanted to be a writer. It was a reflective, impulsive answer.

Thinking back about it, i wonder whether i really should take up writing as a career option or movie making or just become a space cowgirl and hee haw around with a horse in outer space. Confusing world. Too many decisions, too many options. Sigh.

Back to the documentary making though, its the MOST satisfying thing in the world. Try it sometime. Good fun. Loads of hard work. But REAL out and out fun. :)

Second chances..

2007-10-27T00:42:00.000-07:00

Movie : Hitch
Scene : The night after Albert and Allegra's first date, the conversation between Hitch and Albert

H : She's probably thinking about you and her as an item, but she wont let you in on it.
A : Oh, so its not a big deal then
H : It's a VERY big deal Albert!! One kiss, one dance, one date, that's all we get from being "oh some guy i did something with" to a happily ever after ending.

I feel like Albert now. In the words of Chris "I yam yinnocent", but I'm also very stupid. I think Ive blown my one chance, and now I'll never know what could have happened between us.

One stupid crazy impulsive goof up, and poof he's gone. Why do we get only ONE chance? It's not fair.

When i think about the conversation i had with him not too long back which went in the lines of,
Him : I'm very fond of you, we're excellent friends now. So lets thread this path carefully. If i let anyone get to that very last circle and she breaks my heart, ill be shattered

To that right there, I should have said. "I'm scared too. But THIS right here is OUR time. This is OUR chance, lets take it! I like you, I like you a LOT, and i promise i will not let you down"

*looks up at God* Give me another chance sir. I think i deserve it.

The shriek of a woman..

2007-10-25T01:48:00.000-07:00

Picture this : An exam hall. 40 odd women scribbling away. You can hear a dragonfly farting if you listen closely.

A shrill shriek pierces through the air. It drills a mini well in your eardrum. You drop your pen and look around you. Mayhem would be an understatement. Women jumping on top of their benches. Some just running helter skelter.

The examiner walks up to the shrieker and asks her what the deal is. "Ma'am, Spider" she retorts.

All that for a spider? Really? Snap out of it woman!! Think Spider man. Think superpowers. You JUST might have gotten lucky. JUST!!

Rain Gods and Exam Highs..

2007-10-23T00:28:00.000-07:00

The rain gods have found a new victim.. ME.

Day 1
Light drizzle. I run out to get the clothes stand in, thankfully it stops. So the stand remains untouched.

Day 2
Light drizzle. I run out to get the clothes stand in. It begins to pour, torrentially. My steps quicken, i drag in the clothes as fast as my fingers allow me to. I heave in relief when every piece of clothing is indoors. I look outside and the rain has stopped.

Day 3, Today
I drive to college for my end semester exams. It begins to pour. So i pull over on the side of the road, take out embarrassing Winnie and throw him on. The minute i begin to ride again, the rain stops.

Message to Rain gods : Go pick on someone your size. Hrmph.

On to Exam highs. Exam highs are the state of not knowing jack shit or bullshit about what the subject is, but still having the balls to stand outside the exam hall and giggle like fools and comment on how much weight has been lost by person A, person B and person ME *yaay yaay*. After the examiner walks in, continue grinning like a fool.

By the time the question paper comes to you, you're so overjoyed just to be back in college after so many days that you forget the seriousness of the paper. You forget that THIS is your end semester paper and could potentially bite you in the ass, if you don't do well.

After 3 hours of scribbling, you walk outside to be greeted by your friend who asks "What the fuck is wrong with you? Wipe that silly grin off your face. This paper was horrible"

You continue grinning, hug a few more friends who you've missed like crazy during the excruciatingly boring study holidays and walk away.

Whats this life for, if not for exams highs and rain gods who have field days making our lives miserable. Suck it up and continue grinning, because grinning is A-Okay. *grin grin* :D

Elizabethtown..

2007-10-22T02:06:00.000-07:00

A shoe designer, whose business is down in the dumps. He's going through a huge financial crisis, the world is laughing their ass off at his expense and to add fuel to the fire, his dad kicks the bucket. As the only son, he must travel to their small hometown of Elizabethtown, Kentucky to attend his father's memorial. On the flight to Kentucky, he meets a flight attendant.

Now this lady is downright out of her mind, she's 100% MAD, and I could absolutely relate to that. She falls in love with this man and somehow helps him get through the rough patch he is going through.

To find love in the most strangest of places, and with the most unexpected of people, now THAT is truly a miracle.

The whole father-son relationship and strangers falling in love thing was shown so beautifully in this flick. I did tear a little every now and then of course.

Bottom Line : Its a must watch flick for all the hopeless romantics.

Chak De India..

2007-10-20T09:49:00.000-07:00

Why the hell are we promoting stupid cricket, (which by the way was a game brought by our Ex rulers, the Brits, its NOT even our game for Christ's sake) when we actually should be promoting and supporting our national sport - Hockey.

Number 2 : I'm a stupid fool. I'm wasting away my life orkutting, blogging, gymming, going to college, watching 3 movies a day and lots of other arbit random crap, while i really should be doing something. I'm 20, with an able body, a strong will (and i look decent, but that doesn't really matter) and a determination that can get me whatever i want, no matter what pains i have to go through to get it.

I'm really pumped up right now. The movie high is so high, i cant control it. My thoughts are going overboard. Every human being alive irrespective of age, sex, gender,castes, whatever whatever have to, HAVE TO watch this movie.

Something has snapped so hard inside me, i cant explain it, but i want to do something, i have dreams, i want to get them before someone else does.

There is a purpose of my existence on this planet and i WILL NOT stop until i find out what that purpose is and i will not let anything get in my way. So help me God and help me Mr. Universe, I'm a woman on a mission.

I love it when you do, what you do..

2007-10-20T01:30:00.000-07:00

Awesomeness. That's him. *grin grin* I barely know him, but Ive written posts about him long before i actually spoke to him and after i spoke to him, it was just posts galore.

Some people are ONE in a MILLION. And he is ONE in a ZILLION. All he has to do is talk. His voice transports me on to a time and place far far away. And long after he's hung up on me, his voice and his words linger in my brain.

I did something yesterday. I hadn't spoken to him in three days so i send him a very pissed off yet sad sounding message.

Me : Yknow what THIS is ridiculous. You're just being silly and mean.
Him : My exams for this week are over, and they all bombed big time. Why do you get worked up so easily woman?!
Me : I'm not worked up, i just don't like the idea of not talking to you. One day is cool, two days are cool, but i WILL snap on the third day. I'm like this only. You can run now, if you want to, ill understand.
Him : No running needed. I'm cool with that. Call me today.
Me : Oh okie. I will.

And the rest of the day was a blurry haze of yaay, i get to talk to him today after 3 whole days, i kept looking at the clock, willing for time to run faster.

Finally at around 11 pm he called.

Me : Oh its you, i thought you wouldn't call.
Him : Whats the big idea about sending me these kind of messages. Huh huh huh?
Me : Well, you didn't talk to me for 72 hours!
Him : I don't talk to my mom for more than 72 hours
Me : Huh? Your mom
Him : Yes, mom. The lady who gave birth to me.

(By the way, the huh huh huh bit melted me a little, they sounded so sexy coming out of his mouth *sigh*)

And the rest of the convo was as usual arbit and random. But after we hung up, i was on cloud 9 all over again. What is it with this guy? How can a random stranger do this to me? I'm sooo _____ about him. Fill in the gap, because i don't know myself.

But, i LOVE this feeling, whatever it is. *jumps up and down like a jack rabbit* :D

Hitch..

2007-10-17T04:52:00.000-07:00

I am the BIGGEST fan of this movie. It has dealt with the concept of falling in love in such a comical yet a somewhat realistic angle. Right from the first dialogue of the movie till the last is an absolute treat for the ears. They're witty, smart, humorous and full of oomph.

I have seen this movie more than a million times, and i have NEVER ever got bored of watching it. And every single time i watch it, i get completely involved with the characters, just like i did, the very first time i saw it, which was in the year 2005 at Mayajaal. I feel their pain, i feel their loss, and i feel their love, their joys. I don't feel like a third person whilst watching this flick. Yes yes, i know, that is the case with most movies we watch anyway. BUT, this one's different.

At the end of the 118 minutes, i always ALWAYS wish that there REALLY was a Date Doctor. Sigh.

When you like someone, and you just KNOW that he is going to be the ONE, but you cant really do shit about it, that feeling right there, that feeling of absolute helplessness... Now that's life. You cant always have what you want.

*munches on chocolate for comfort and 2 minute feeling of unnatural elation*

The Mayfly..

2007-10-15T22:40:00.000-07:00

I really love this Vodafone Ad. The creativity and the imagination that went into making it. The voice over in the background, i hang on to every word he says. His voice itself by the way ; strong, determined, sexy, throaty. Overall very trippy advertisement. I rate it a 9/10.

Each time i feel a little low, or am on the verge of tears, i just watch this advertisement and all my blues sort of melt away. The last line is the most catchiest, if we embrace life, like the Mayfly, just think what a life that would be. And i nod along with it, i tear a little and i solemnly make an oath to myself to just take a chill pill and not take things too seriously.

And yep, here's the link to the Ad
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VvC_KHU4AqE

Enjoy watching it. :)

Boxing..

2007-10-14T23:15:00.000-07:00

I felt like Hilary Swank today, from The Next Karate Kid. I had hit gym after 3 whole days. So my stamina was down. I could gym only for 1 hour, ran only for 10 minutes and i didn't have the energy to lift weights. But still, that 1 hour workout, was a killer workout.

I could feel the blood flowing through every vein in my body with enthusiasm and speed. My hands kept balling up into fists each time a random ogler drooled. It was a trippy feeling. I was angry, focused, happy and full of energy.

I drove like a maniac today, almost killed 2-3 fellow bikes and some stupid pedestrians who have no road sense. More on the pedestrians, these people really deserve to die!! Why cant they just look to the left and the right of the road before they decide to run across. And just when they see a biker why do they have to run across? Do they get some evil satisfaction by doing dumb ass things like that? Today i was merciless. I purposely went close to a few pedestrians just to shake them up a little. They yelled abuses, i yelled back even worse abuses.

I reached back home in one piece, and i could think only of Mr. Miyagi and his wax on, wax off drill. All i wanted to do was punch something real hard for 20 mins just to break some steam.

And thanks to dad, i did wax on, wax off in the kitchen, courtesy the mess he had left behind in his morning rush.

But seriously, i would make a decent boxer if i tried. Maybe i should give it a whirl. I don't think i will be this fit ever again in my entire life. So why not make the most of right now. Besides, there are a few jaws i want to break, so the boxing would definitely come in handy.