Books and anecdotes

Of Books and bookshelves

2011-02-18T09:41:00.001-08:00

For the want of better things to do when a 3 month old is asleep, I thought of arranging our book shelf. Since the time it had to be moved out of the room that has now become the nursery, it has been in a painful state. Science and fiction sat side by side like einstein and paris hilton! Anyway, i started arranging them, trying to fit them back into the order they were in initially and found out that
1. We have way too many unread books.
2. Even though we've promised ourselves not to buy till we have finished reading what we have, that is never going to happen. I dont think we will ever finish reading all these books in this lifetime(which is quite sad)
3. I divided the books into science, fiction-translations,fiction in english by indian authors(which also includes a couple of german and nigerian authors), english fiction-others, language and literature, travel and history, political science and related topics and finally a miscellaneous section which has weird topics from the rise of the indian rope trick to paulo coehlo stuck in front of an ugly silver tray which I have been trying to hide.
4. Our literature and language section has surprisingly quite a number of books esp on language. Owing to the hubbys passion on the origin of the languages a few yrs back.
5. My favourite is the science and fiction translations closely followed by pol science though I doubt if i am ever going to finish reading a kazantzakis or a chomsky. Maybe we could sell them for their vintage value a few years down the line.
6. Once again, we have way too many books!
But atleast its arranged... Till the next set of books come in!

2009-07-27T07:56:00.000-07:00

On Exams.

Two teeny exams and I realized its no joke to start studying after a gap of 7 yrs. But deep down, I loved it, I loved going back to reading books for examinations' sake, even though there was no "going to college" attached to it. Though it took a while, my mind slowly went back to the pace of dividing lessons, focusing on what I had to finish that day. Maybe I should take off and do a full-fledged course. Maybe I will.. someday.

My current read..

2009-04-24T22:08:00.000-07:00

Avial

2009-04-24T20:43:00.000-07:00

When my cousin texted me in the morning saying that Avial was performing at PES, Hosur Road, it did not really register in my mind. While driving back from work, it all but struck me at once. I called up Arun and a couple of others who I knew would just want to be there and we rushed in praying we get tickets. It turned out to be a huge college ground with students loitering around.. There dint seem to be anything much happening. Apparently water had seeped into the mixer when it rained for an hr and they were trying to fix things up. It was a bit later that we realized the band members were actually walking among the crowd. The students were more or less letting them do their stuff and get the console all setup.. half an hour later they went on. By that time, the crowd size was just about 10% of the ground capacity. All of us huddled near the stage yelling and screaming along with the music. It was just about perfect, the only glitch being sound system. But the adrenalin managed to overshadow all that. It felt a bit strange to jump around with kids, but who cared! About 10 minutes back stage with the band after the show and our day was made. Smiling to ourselves and feeling 10 yrs younger, we all trooped back home. As Ruben the youngest amongst us and among the whole crowd said, Avial did manage to create a niche for malayalam in the the world of rock.

Notes: http://www.phat-phish.com/avial
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ezWZafXv2OM

GenNext

2009-03-31T10:02:00.000-07:00

I happened to get a peek into my distant future last week. Nope, it wasnt the astrologer who read my cards, it was just a 15-minute conversation with my 16 year old cousin. She had just entered Standard XII. Her mom was worried, and not completely without reason, of her incessant companion- the mobile phone. Being just one generation away and the sister she was in awe of, the task of advising her fell upon me.

I kept a reminder on my phone and called her up. Spent a couple of minutes in useless banter and then slowly approached the topic. That it would be better if she left the phone with her mom everyday day during her study time(Did I ever study everyday?!). My words sounded disappointingly hollow to my own ears. I knew from the beginning that there wasnt much I could do to hold my stand but now that I had started it, I had to end it. I heard the usual ifs and buts and whys, but when she retorted that she's heard stories about how I used to talk endlessly on the phone and shoot up the bills, I was on the brink of breakdown. More senseless, trying-to-hold-ground answers and further admonishments later I hung up the phone. I thank my stars that I have years ahead of me to prepare myself for a full-fledged session like this. Or maybe I should start taking up courses on teen psychology as soon as I can.

My religion

2009-03-10T09:09:00.000-07:00

My grandparents were agnostics or were they atheists, am not sure. At that time they were called communists and that was that. They believed in people and in science. Most of my primary school education and adolescence were spent with them. But they never tried to change my faith(if a 10 year old could have one) in any direction. All they repeatedly dwelt on was that people are far more important than any caste or religion.

My mother, inspite of being raised up without being herded to temples in her childhood, turned out to become a staunch believer, not in religion, but in God. During those years of my schooling when I got to be around her and when the subject of faith was brought up, she repeatedly stressed on the oneness of God. And even at that time, I knew those were not empty words. She believed in them. Just as she believed in going to the temple on tuesdays and thursdays and to Mahim church on Wednesdays. As she grew old, her devotion narrowed down, but even today she is a very tolerant lady.

In the midst of all this, I grew up believing in God in all forms - the numerous Hindu ones, in Allah and Jesus alike. I did this with ease, never for a moment doubting that I was wronging my religion. All those years of chinmaya schooling made me think that Hinduism was a way of life. Idols and temples are only a part of the something much deeper inside. There is absolutely nothing or noone called a true Hindu.

But now, cometh the twenty-first century, when man has probed into the smallest division of life possible and the deepest realms of space, apparently, my views are A-Hindu as per the new sect of people who preach a new form of Hinduism called Hindutva. They preach that Hindu's need not respect other religions or beliefs, that anything which is related to the 'West' is against India so that celebrating Valentines' day is immoral and more recently, any woman wearing a non-Indian dress is wronging her culture. That very culture which was so open that from within arose two very prominent religions today - Buddhism and Jainish. That India whose stories are rich with romance and pure love and children born out of wedlock, the very same culture in which not many generations ago, women in certain "higher" communities considered it beneath them to cover their torso. The world has moved on and all this needs to be forgotten. Yes, but in that case, stop preaching about Indianness. All we need in this world where nature itself is one of the biggest threats is compassion towards people. Are religions so important that they are above people? Is God so important that people are pawns who can be murdered? As my twenty seven years of faith start crumbling, I keep asking myself the same question again - Is it more important being true to our religion than being a good human being? Is there anything in the world more important than being a good person and not doing anyone any harm.

2008-09-01T13:02:00.000-07:00

ROCK ON

Its all in the genes.. And it hasnt been more evident in anyone else recently. Whatever be the multi-faceted review that Rock-On has received, one thing is blatantly evident. It has given us a new actor in the league of Naseeruddin Shah and Aamir Khan. I might be talking too soon if I were to say that Farhan Akhtar can well become the next Aamir, the coin can turn either way, but he indeed has the potential that can take him further.

Rock-On isnt another Jhankaar Beats. Though there is a tendency to compare, I would anyday rate Rock-On higher. The movie,to begin with, is edited pretty well. It starts off on a slightly dull, low-budget movie note, with an okay song, definitely not the best in the movie. A typical rock-band, funky clothes, long hair. The next few scenes jump 10 years in time, and then, slowly the story unfolds, going back and forth between the years. The transition in the different characters is very much rooter in reality and this is where the movie scores over Jhankar Beats. It does not restrict itself to a few friends passionate about music. Its about how life in all its practicality leads them elsewhere.. and for the audience thats a world outside the movie screen, right into their next door neighbourhood. As in Farhan's debut DCH, the character portrayal is also pretty good. As a friend of mine said, you can almost relate with Debbie's frustration and grumpiness. Another scene, that struck me as taken well, was where Adi meets his ex-love. The scene dint thankfully,lead to an emotional wife/ex-lover crying over the past and declaring their true love and sacrifice. It was a pretty quick shot, a couple of words, to show how, as it happens in reality, the characters have moved on.

Admitted, the movie has a slightly slow pace but I think that is quite over-shadowed by the brilliant performances. Farhan is really impressive. Not once did he give away the fact that this was his debut film. He was also backed by pretty strong performances, Especially from Shahana Goswami as Debbie Masceranhas. The songs might not be to everyone's taste, but they are catchy and nice in an off-beat way. The lyrics might be a little revolting to a few, unable to fathom the idea that Javed Akhtar can actually write this way. But I believe,the songs should blend in the movie. You cannot definitely have a ballad or a bhangra in a movie about Rock music. If they think the lyrics are funny, then some of the best English songs have equally funny lyrics, Norwegian Wood, Smoke on Water to mention a few..and these are classics in their own way. There is definitely no comparison here, but it is indeed a welcome relief over another soulful Udit Narayan number or a nasal Himesh Reshammiya howling away! Farhan's voice suits the songs very well (yes, he has sung most of the songs in the movie as well). Here's hoping, we see more of Rock Ons, more so because it just proves that there is a crowd out here that expects more out of movies than family weddings and bhangras and swiss-alps-shot-movie songs.

2008-08-20T12:01:00.000-07:00

In Cambridgeshire

"There was a time in England when taxes were charged on the number of windows in a house" said Rob, our guide on the punt, explaining why a few windows on the cam-side houses were bricked-up. The people in those days were literally robbed of the daylight entering their houses. This is eventually how the term 'daylight robbery' came to be used. Rob is a student from one of the many colleges that form a part of the Cambridge University. He is also a punting guide who takes tourists along the cam river, to earn those always welcome extra pounds.

Every friday evening until that Sunday, I was propped up on my bed, with the Lonely planet - Britain open, wondering how on earth am I going to visit all those wonderful places in the UK in a span of 4 months. I would then remind myself of mainland Europe - Prague, Budapest, Stockholm, Salzburg, Spain... and my head would just spin dizzily. Three - four weekends of turning pages and sighing away went by and then one weekend, i realized the infamous british winter was just round the corner and I better get up and get going. A couple of calls and it was decided that Saju, Joseph and I will meet up in Cambridge and that they'd take me around the place. A wodehouse in hand, mp3 player plugged safely, I was on board the train to Stevenage. The first 15 minutes went by with me smiling and chuckling on Bertie Woosters one-liners and then I happened to look out of the window. The flats and crowded roads gave way suddenly to open meadows stretching across miles, with little woods in between. and soon the wodehouse was back in my bag.

The train reached the tiny station that is Stevenage and after breakfast Saju took me into Cambridge after another 30 min drive through peaceful meadow-country. Cathedrals, students, paved streets, the image in my head was right in front of me. It does have its own usual BHSes and M&Ses, but the first impression a visitor gets is definitely far from mod. The first place we went to was the St. Mary's chapel, quiet and awe-inspiring, a characteristic, which I soon came to realize is inherent in most of the cathedrals and chapels in England. There is a tiny circular stairway, a seemingly never-ending journey up to the top, but once you get there, the view is amazing, you can see the whole town/city that is cambridge, the mazes of streets. Once we got back down the tiny stairs, we decided to go punting. A friendly malay teenager sold us 3 tickets at student prices, mentioning on the receipt 'student pass checked'. (Wonder if he did that to every other person on the street..) and then, cider in hand, we were handed over to Rob, who took us on board his punt.

What followed was forty minutes of pure bliss, floating down the cam river listening to yarns about the colleges, about how some of them did not allow women even in the late the 20th century, how an out-of-place modern building was constructed out of the imagination of a student possibly high on weed, marvelling at the thought that Newton was longer just a part of your science books, but you have actually visited the place that he studied in. And ofcourse, not to forget the laughs we had at the groups who bravely decide to row by themselves and were trying their best to make their punt realize that forward, and not concentric circles, was the way they wanted to go. The ride got over like all good things.. Getting out of the punt, we walked aimlessly along the little streets for a while, then got into the nearest Nandos, where I had the most amazing chicken roast, before we all made our way back home. The person who got out of the train back at King's cross was a happy me, and my mind had written one more line into that big book of travel which is what my life would hopefully be.

Note: A punt is a narrow flat ended boat which is propelled forward by pushing against the river bed with a long pole( very similar to the traditional common vanchi in kerala). Punts are a major tourist attraction in the university towns of Cambridge and Oxford and a major source of pocket money for the students of the various colleges that form a part of these Universities.

2008-08-05T11:55:00.000-07:00

The Looong road

Its only now, after a whole year, that I am finally listening to tracks from the new(not-so-new now) Eagles album and I am simply hooked to the title track, Long Road Out of Eden. Took me a couple of listens, and here was the nextgen Hotel California..haunting to the core. Kudos, albiet late, to the legends!

Moon shining down through the palms
Shadows moving on the sand
Somebody whispering the twenty-third Psalm
Dusty rifle in his trembling hands
Somebody trying just to stay alive
He got promises to keep
Over the ocean in America
Far away and fast asleep.

Silent stars blinking in the blackness of an endless sky
Cold silver satellites, ghostly caravans passing by
Galaxies unfolding; new worlds being born
Pilgrims and prodigals creeping toward the dawn
But it's a long road out of Eden.

Music blasting from an SUV
On a bright and sunny day
Rolling down the interstate
In the good ol' USA
Having lunch at the petroleum club
Smoking fine cigars and swapping lies
"Gimme 'nother slice of that barbecued brisket!"
"Gimme 'nother piece of that pecan pie"

Freeways flickering, cell phones chiming a tune
We're riding to Utopia; road map says we'll be arriving soon
Captains of the old order clinging to the reins
Assuring us these aches inside are only growing pains
But it's a long road out of Eden

Back home, I was so certain; the path was very clear
But now I have to wonder - what are we doing here?
I'm not counting on tomorrow and I can't tell wrong from right
But I'd give anything to be there in your arms tonight

Weaving down the American highway
Through the litter and the wreckage, and the cultural junk
Bloated with entitlement, loaded on propaganda
Now we're driving dazed and drunk

Went down the road to Damascus, the road to Mandalay
Met the ghost of Caesar on the Appian Way
He said, "It's hard to stop this binging once you get a taste
But the road to empire is a bloody, stupid waste"

Behold the bitten apple - the power of the tools
But all the knowledge in the world is of no use to fools
And it's a long road out of Eden

2008-04-28T07:43:00.000-07:00

The day maxaud's photo got published in Nat Geo's daily dozen.

2008-04-17T06:47:00.000-07:00

Thoughts

The sun shining outside does nothing to stop him,
And the light burning inside is barely a flicker.
He continues forth, wrapping all around him in bright darkness.
The flicker lasted, but a moment.
When he can envelop the sun himself one day, what are we mere mortals!

They say time heals it all!
But maybe time ain't that good a doctor; Or is it me who is a bad patient.
They say sorrows are to be divided;
But the pot still has remnants -
Crumbs that can only be nibbled, a tiny millionth of a morsel at a time,
wearing away a part of you along with it.

2008-03-31T04:57:00.000-07:00

The land of the lion.

There are different ways in which people react to places. The mumbaikers I meet, for instance, either hate bombay vehemently or love it passionately, I havent met a neutral bombayite so far. Bangaloreans are different. They dont mind being neutral (if you choose to ignore the traffic aspect). But whoever I've met before going to Singapore had one of two things to tell me

1. Four months, what ever will you do there for that long? It takes just 4 days to see the place!

2. Singapore..There's nothing to do there but for the excellent food! And yes, the work culture isnt all that great, you'll end up being in office most of the time.

And with that notion in mind, I had embarked on a journey expecting to find a miniscule manhattan, full of skyscrapers, zombie-like office goers. That does indeed sum-up the whole city-country, but there's more to it than just skyscrapers. There is lush greenery around most of the areas. It is even one of the very few cities in the world, that has a rainforest right in the heart of the city. There are zombie office goers ofcourse, but they turn into normal people during the weekends, representing a molecule of whichever country they are originally from. Singapore made me feel at home even in the ultra modern underground tubes because one could hear the familiar "pazhanigal ..." announcements in tamil that I could rattle away by-heart after my year's stint in chennai. India is known for its diversity, where regardless of state or language, people celebrate festivals together. In Singapore, they are one step ahead; it is even beyond your race. You can see the ethnic chinese children dressed up in kurtis celebrating Deepavali, the ethnic Indian's eating mooncakes during the Autumn festival because for them dark-skinned or not, they are all singaporeans all speaking the same language - Singlish(which interestingly is very much like English. You just have to gulp down the last letters of most words and replace all harsh sounds with an "ah").

But beyond all, I loved the city for something else. Something that I would never be able to experience had i not accepted the trip. The feeling of being safe. That is inherent in the place. One can raise humanitarian concerns over the punishments dealt out to law offenders there, but ultimately the effect is the feeling of complete security. That which lets me go for a walk to the nearby lake on a moonlit night all by myself.. that makes it possible for me to walk back home with my roommate at 2.00 am in the morning after a late night show, kicking the stones along the pavement.. that makes me take lonely roads without being struck with the paranoia of encountering a creep in the next lane. So, the next time someone gets all whiny, blaming Singapore for being a nothing city, one without a heritage or a history, I'll think twice before nodding my head. For it was the city that made me experience all those things I wanted to do, but could never do before just because I was a lady. And "its never safe for ladies".

Majulah Singapura!

The view across the esplanade on National Day

Fort Canning

2008-02-26T06:39:00.000-08:00

And finally... the web comes home!!

2006-10-24T07:16:00.000-07:00

And these are a few of my favourite....

Am in the middle of watching two sequels, one after the other, back to back. Movies stuffed with food for thought. enough for philosophical ramblings.Before Sunrise and Before sunset. Both excellent ones, though one was slightly watered down by a mutilated cd.. But no, not delving into all of those, a dialogue from the movie struck me.. A portion where the character just feels scared that her life might not be long enough to do all the things that she wanted.. And it just set me a little thinking.. in the sense about what are the things that i would yearn to complete if someone suddenly gave me a timeframe to live. A few things I can think about on the spur..
1. Finish reading the entire set of books at home and read all of Kafka's and Murakami's works.
2. Visit the english countryside, scotland and wales(the blyton effect I guess)
3. Trek to wild destinations(inspired by the lil veteran amongst us)
4. Learn salsa..
5. Be able to bake rolls, all sorts of cakes, muffins. Hmm, i love the smell of bakes fresh out of the oven.. Its this nice warm feeling, envelopes the whole house.

2006-09-24T07:50:00.000-07:00

Writings from Tokyo

Prologue: And after a really long break, (I live in a tranquil place away from the bust of city life.. to be read as a place with no entry to the cyberspace), I've decided to atleast relive my poor lil bluggie. There've been a couple of half penned write-ups that i've been scrapping in the back of books, pieces of paper so that some day i might be able to blog it. And now that i m actually able to blog i have no idea where to start from, do i continue chronologically... but giving time no heed, I decide to write about my latest awe..something i've been dying to write about.

"A dwarf came into my dream and asked me to dance. I knew this was a dream, but I was just as tired in my dream as in real life at the time. So, very politely, I declined..."

And so begins The Little Dwarf, from Haruki Murakami 's repertoire of short stories. I believe(& I have mentioned this before) that narration is what makes up a good piece of writing. Creativity & fabrication sometimes just open the door and take a backseat. You can have an inborn talent that brings out vivid, colourful tales but unless there is an orator in you, I believe you are stunted. This is exactly what I think Murakami's works are not, atleast the ones I have read so far. An imaginative raconteur in the true sense of the word, the stories from The Elephant Vanishes make you lean back, close your eyes and soak up each of his lines, like relishing each spoonful of dark chocolate mousse. Kudos to the brilliant translation by Jay Rubin and Alfred Birnbaum. He seems to have inherited the forte and flair of the flamboyant(when it comes to inventiveness) Kafka and is very rightly dubbed as the protege of the brain that created the nonpareil Metamorphosis and similar stories.

The above quoted line was so surreal, i read it out aloud to max the other day. It was soo probable, so.. deja vuish. It was like someone had popped in to one of my dreams and recorded it and had actually edited & published the whole thing. All the stories in the collection are first-person accounts, "The Dancing Dwarf" has all the essence of a modern fairy tale, while "Window" is about a guy who works in a pen-club answering letters from lonely members yearning to get out of their mundane lives atleast through a few words. And then there is the title story "The Elephant Vanishes" about how an elephant and its mahout magically disappears one night from the elephant house. The others like "Family affair", "The little green monster", "My second Bakery attach" are equally impressive. My personal favourite however, is "Sleep".. about a wife, who loses herself & her priorities in her family without realizing so, and how she regains her hobbies when after a certain incident she fails to fall asleep in the night. During the day, she resumes her normal routine, while during the night she goes into her world, where she can go back to her books and resume each of her lost past times.

And thus, you live thru each of his stories. You are there listening to the characters talk to you, feeling the same emotions, ready to speak those very sentences penned. Each story is a philosophy in itself. Content with my little appetizer, I reach out for the next book, 'Kafka on the Shore'.

2006-02-23T01:51:00.000-08:00

Some More...
A few more snaps from that day with a lot of time. It's just struck me that i ended up taking photographs of just flowers, Probably because there were a lot of them in the room. This ones from the "uruli" in the centre of the room(TS, both are with ISO 400), I had to spent some time(and money) trying to find flowers for the uruli because it was already getting late and most of the florists had either closed for the day or had withered flowers... I did have this brilliant idea of painting those lil mud diyas and float them in the uruli, but somehow(read as lazy) ended up with the flowers.

2006-02-22T05:03:00.000-08:00

It was one of those sleepy mondays where office is the last thing that you would like to see.(And yes ofcourse, i did have this severe back pain, which usually tags along with most of us in the software industry)

Well, coming back to the day, cooking and cleaning all done, i still had a lot of time to while away. That and the availability of a 512MB memory stick and a camera at hand, resulted in this photograph. Now I am not even anywhere close to an amateur here, so no expectations from the snap.

2006-02-17T03:57:00.000-08:00

Home Rule..

An avid fan that i am of Shashi Tharoor, spared myself some time to read a few of his recent articles. Each one struck a chord and made me unconsciously nod my head to what he had to say, but a particular one, with a catchy title had me feeling proud. An article published in 2005, titled "Kalyanikutty's Kerala". He goes on to stress how the women in kerala were always educated and forward in their thinking even in the 19th century. Cant deny that the feminist in me wasnt evoked, but more than that, the article makes you feel good, proud of being born in a state where a woman ruler decreed that "the State should defray the entire cost of the education of its people in order that there might be no backwardness in the spread of enlightenment among them, that by diffusion of education they might become better subjects and public servants" and all the governments followed till date.

2006-02-17T01:38:00.000-08:00

Painting our house.......... Part 2
Had mentioned earlier that i'd post a pic of the house once its done. For all those ppl who are wondering if the colors really went into the house, most of it still did. Not on the walls but more or less everywhere.

2006-01-19T00:59:00.000-08:00

Classics from the land of the rising sun.

Got a chance to see Rashomon from home - My first Kurosawa movie, having missed the screening of "Dreams" at collective chaos. The film is about how a single incident is described by four different people with totally contrasting endings. A wayside robber, lured by the beauty of the young wife of a warrior crossing the woods attacks the couple and assaults the lady. Her husband gets killed. This episode has four different endings, as told by the robber, the wife, the spirit of the deadman and a wood-cutter passing-by, each one showing the warrior being killed by different people. The director has not revealed the actual event but just left it as four different versions. Each person chose to tailor the story to his/her vagaries. The movie has been taken without too many frills and the narration has not crossed that fine line which separates vivid portrayal from boring exhaustive detail.

What struck me most about the movie is the way it has brought out that unavoidable aspect of human nature, how each one of us consciously or unconsciously add on to or delete seemingly insignificant incidents that happen everyday. Be it typing something like i am doing write now to miniscule things like mentioning the time, we all do tend to lie..or rather to avoid such a strong word, formulate our own truths. All in all, the movie really set me thinking. Not a must watch, but if you are in the habit of exploring movies, it is worth a sitting.

Speaking of movies, I missed The Hitchiker's guide and The Schindler's list, both of which i really did want to see.

2005-12-14T06:16:00.000-08:00

From the road...

Had been to my Uncle's house last evening. Knew they had a young guest when I saw a gleaming thunderbird, literally tethered to the gate outside, unless ofcourse my "in-their-late-sixties" uncle and aunt decided it was time to exhaust the remaining adrenalin in their bodies and freak out! The truth turned out to be less exciting as usual and I met the visitor, their son's friend,a British guy of Indian descent, with a very "propuh" accent who was out to explore India in an Enfield. Reminded me of Che and Granado on their Norton(Ref-1). This guy started out from Kashmir, journeyed across Leh, Himachal, Punjab, Haryana covering almost all the states in the western half of the country. These adventures always sets me thinking. I would love to travel,given an opportunity which again brings me back to the same question, don't v have to create our opportunities?? Y is it that abroad ppl follow their dreams..Y is it that you can take out a car and set out in the US but not in India? Is it just my perspective? The first answer that comes to my mind is ofcourse, the basic of all basic necessities,the pieces of processed papyrus called "money". But very honestly, is that the only factor or are v just not too certain of getting out of that warm cocoon? I really dont know.

Ref1 - The Motorcycle Diaries. I have been totally fascinated by that book!!!

Note1 - Also came to know that Dec 26 is "Boxing Day". My benightedness made me wonder if that had anything to do with Boxing. Fortunately, it doesn't say that here.

2005-12-08T03:05:00.000-08:00

Painting my house.. Yellow, green, blue, red...

First things first, the title should have been "our" and not "my".. Apologies, max!!

Spent the whole of today afternoon wasting company bandwidth and resource in doing exactly what the title says..trying to decide colors for our flat.

Wanted to post a pic of it - a raw structure of bricks, mortar, cement and paint, as it looked the first time we saw it. But due to lack of space in a 16MB memory stick, i am unable to do so. Hopefully, by God's grace, i'll be able to post a pic of the flat, when it is no longer just a flat but a dear lil home!!

2005-12-05T00:34:00.000-08:00

The roots..

Had been to school last weekend. There is a plethora of emotions lost in that one word - School, to be more precise Chinmaya Vidyalaya, Kannur. Spent my adolescence there, the latter half of my teens, witnessing my idiosyncracies, my change from a whimsical teenager to a person caught between adulthood and teenage, petrified yet inquisitive and eager to face the world. The Class of 98, as one of our teachers very sweetly remembered us as, was one of the best batches the school had(is that a compliment, hmm... :)), she said not because v were academic oriented or anything but because we had our share of fun which they still like to talk about and reminisce.. and believe me, those words touched the soul. Thank you my dear miss rasika. We enjoyed your classes too, the debates, the discussions .. on topics ranging from school shoes to beauty contests anything anything but studies!!

Being a saturday there were not many teachers, but that warmth, that wholehearted smile, that cheerful wave on recognition brings back so many memories. The petition that all of us had signed against the introduction of wednesday uniforms, the arts fest, the children's week, the "house" spirit,those huge gatherings at our houses, the days when i had literally burned the midnight oil practising for the orchestra at vij's place..oh yes, we had a great time.

Our visit was however earmarked with a not too pleasant one hour tour of the new tech campus inside the school premises. We were compelled to hear about the servers and the softwares that they used, the head of the tech institute started switching over to stronger technical terms as he was talking to "software engineers from infy and wipro"(kinda reminds me of the sentence CID's from India..:)), little did he know that the firewalls and the software and the protocols were not even grazing my head!!! But other than the forced tour which made us forget to go see the new swimming pool(yes, max i did want to see that), it did turn out to be a pleasant trip, not as embarassing as i expected it would be. A day well spent!

And before i conclude, chinmayites, another piece of info - the entire school campus is now Wi-Fi!!! I tried to find out a link on the school but could just find this instead. http://www.chintech.ac.in/

2005-11-30T04:57:00.000-08:00

Avenues left unexplored..till now

Read the book "entuppuppaakkoraanandaayrnnu" by Vaikkam Mohammed Basheer.. Dont consider myself worthy of giving an opinion about it and there are several reasons for this; the foremost one being the shameful fact that this is the first book in malayalam that i've read, inspite of being a malayalee and being in kerala for almost the whole of my 9000 days on the planet and the second, as a corollary to the first, that i would not be capable of judging a letter written in malayalam leave alone a book(I can feel the contempt on the faces of people when they read this.)

About the book.. I would probably not do it enough justice if i gave a preview here, it has to be read to be enjoyed. About the author, well, he is known for his brash, bold and blunt colloquial writing and I must admit it is pretty amusing to read malayalam the way its actually spoken in North Kerala. Witty and acerbic in his real life as well, Mohammed Basheer or the 'Beypore Sultan' as he is fondly remembered had dipped his hand in the freedom struggle as well, which again is an act very much attributed to his contemporaries like Vayalar Rama Varma, P Bhaskaran, Thakazhi Sivasankaran Pillai, who characterise the crux of Malayalam Literature.

Signing off here, hoping that sometime i would be eligible to write a few words on other great books written in my "mother tongue", the word we indians very often use to refer to our native languages.

2005-11-07T05:50:00.000-08:00

The Bells start to toll..

Wedding bells.. what else. Just a lil more than 5 weekends and lo, the day arrives. (Err, max.. maybe u ought not to read more, not good for the heart i say :), the "lola hridayam" )

And how do i feel?? Let me be try to be true to myself here. Anticipation..Yes, that was the mood this weekend, that is till yday. The spirit of the whole affair, the fanfare, the streamers, the works came swooshing down the moment i stepped into dear 'ol kannur. The cards, the flowers, the decor.. Colourful clothes, glittering accompaniments and what not. The planning, the ordering, the list just goes on and on and on. The girl in me ruled over the woman. But yes, you did read it right, i did write "till yday". Because last nite, a cold night up in the hills, nerves came on.. breaking the speed limit knocking me off totally!! That feeling, when reality pops up suddenly, your sensiblity gets aroused and you begin to wonder "what the hell is going to happen??". The sanguiness just disappeared round the bend that the bus took. The house, the wedding, the money all shrunk into my head spinning it on and on and on.. (Max, smelling salts???)

And then you realize why you need to work.. to pay the bills and loan ofcourse!!!:) No, not just that.. I can crib about work for hours on, but sometimes it does do wonders. It takes that dark cloud away from your head. Puts you in a space where its just you, your cubicle and an annoying piece of code, alienates all other hustles that kept you occupied, troubles you through the day with phone calls and specs. But at the end of the day, it makes a difference, it makes every little thing, that past weekend at home, the book left unfinished, that long deep sleep and the tingle of excitement at tying the knot seem so much more dearer, so much more treasured..

2005-10-18T08:08:00.000-07:00

Before i start my first blog here, it is fitting that i do give a small teeny weeny little prologue, atleast to be true to my blog title.. My first blog is about one of my fav authors. I was browsing through that ocean of optical fibres and communication channels, or the internet as it is known to us, on one of those many jobless days when i came across this particular review and the moment i read it, i thought i must blog abt this...i happened to have a newly created account in blogspot and so here it goes...

No "Clowning" affair...

A writer’s brilliance, without saying, goes in his ability to arouse the reader’s curiosity. Each page should tell you "hold on, there's more". The one person who has somehow unceasingly never failed to invoke my interest with his narrative skills is Shashi Tharoor, be it his books or his reviews. His non-fiction seems to have a created a deeper impression. Some of his fiction works, Riot for instance, doesnot have an out of the way plot, but as I said before he has this knack of just letting you flow along with the book. Sometimes that is the very reason why you do need a book, to just transport you, for a moment into that place, that incident, in an otherwise prosaic day.

The latest work or rather article of his that I have come across is his review on “Shalimar the Clown”. It would be an understatement to say that Tharoor is pro-rushdie. His revere for Rushdie is clearly transparent whenever he mentions the “Booker of all Bookers” winner, the "fatwa"ed writer. And it is pretty much inescapable in this review as well. To add to the fact that this is the first favourable review of the latest edition from Rushdie’s pen. Tharoor has successfully managed to outline the better angles of the book- "Shalimar is a novel of mourning, not least for the loss of the Kashmiriyat (Kashmiriness), which Rushdie so lovingly evokes in his portrait of idyllic village life..