The other day, (a couple of days ago), I went ice-skating. In five minutes, I was down with a fractured ankle. An ambulance took me to the nearest hospital, x-rays were taken and a splint put on my foot. The net result of all this is that I will probably be out of any noteworthy action for about 6 weeks, but I am sincerely hoping it will be less. I think I’m being a reasonably good patient, apart from momentary lapses into self-pity which are completely unwarranted, because come on, there are millions of people with much bigger problems in life, after all! So I grin and bear it with good grace. The most difficult part so far was sitting on my ‘fanny’ (as the nurse at the hospital called it) and somehow hauling myself upstairs to my 5th-floor apartment, one butt and one stair at a time.(No, there is no elevator). Oh, I can be the ‘butt’ of so many jokes now, yeah yeah!
The good things I am trying to gain from this experience (and it’s only week one) are:
1. Becoming a good disciple of Buddha, (or a lesson in patience). I used to be such a ‘come on, let’s do this NOW’ kind of person, and now I am left with no choice but to wait and do things slowly, if I can do them with one leg, or else wait for someone to help me.
2. Mental self-help, (or learning to better manage my time using my head and not a sheet of paper, though I suppose I could use both now that I have the time) - how Stephen. R. Covey-like does THAT sound!
3. Learning the IHOP menu. Except in my case, it's 'I hop', i.e, the one-legged dance, you know?
Let’s see what other lessons the next few weeks bring!
.......the entire universe conspires to make it happen. After a really crazy late night, I woke up suddenly at what I was soon to realize was 11.30 AM. My hazy addled brain remembered only one thing: that I was due to meet some friends in the city for the 12.20 PM show of Madhuri Dixit’s comeback film after six years – Aaja Nachle. Now, to get the rest of this story, you need to understand a few things: one, that I love dance, dancing and all it stands for. I love the spontaneity of moving to a song you love when you hear it out of the blue one day, the dedicated practice it takes to get a sequence right when you finally perform it on stage, the careful thought that goes into choreographing a dance for others. All of which I've done in the past. Two, the fact that I have grown up watching Madhuri in a scintillating array of roles, in most of which she was remarkably entertaining (and gorgeous): Radha in Ram Lakhan, Paro in Parinda, Anju in Kishen Kanhaiya, Madhu in Dil, Saraswati in Beta, Ganga in Khal Nayak, Nisha in Hum Aapke Hain Koun and finally Chandramukhi in Devdas, to name just a few. Add to this the fact that I sat and watched Karan Johar interviewing her (in five separate videos on YouTube) on Koffee With Karanthe day before the film’s release, and you may JUST get why I really had to see Aaja Nachle.
So at 11.30 I woke up and said to myself ‘There is no way you’re going to make it on time, just forget about it and go later.’ Except I didn’t really believe it, I think, because with some slight nudging from the husband, who said that it was possible if I got ready in less than 10 minutes, I started thinking it was possible after all. 10 minutes is all it took for me to shower and change, and then I was out the door like a bullet. At the station, I heard the automated voice on the train say ‘Please stand aside, doors closing’ – at the head of a long set of stairs. I hurtled down and threw myself into the train just as the doors closed. The miracle here is that the train was still there by the time I negotiated those stairs, and the additional fact that on weekends that particular train only arrives at intervals of 15 minutes. So basically, if I hadn’t caught that train, I would really not have made it. Anyway, not end of story yet. I had to change trains. Yes. So 20 minutes later, I re-enacted hurtling myself down a separate set of stairs, through 2 turnstiles and into – yes into – yet another waiting train, whose doors duly closed as I threw myself in yet again. 5 minutes later, I was in the theatre. Now I knew I was safe, because it was just 12.19 or so….so after getting the ticket, I took the time to buy myself a large bottle of water and two hot dogs to get over my pretty large hangover. As I walked in and sat down next to my friends, the film started.
And that’s the story of how I got to watch Aaja Nachle.
Any review that I may write about the film is likely to be biased, so I will say this: I was completely entertained, I loved the songs and I loved the dance. Madhuri was as attractive as she was and considering she’s had two kids, as sexy as she was years ago. I also loved Kunal Kapoor (whom I’ve seen once in real life and he is so well-chiselled it’s amazing), Vinay Pathak, Ranvir Shorey, Divya Dutta, Akshaye Khanna, Irrfan Khan and Konkona Sen Sharma. The film is well-edited, very funny in parts, and not overly dramatic – which it could have easily been. If anyone wants my opinion, I’d say go watch.
When I was a student in India, I distinctly remember a certain practice in my school that grated on my young nerves whenever it presented itself before me. It was the requirement in my school's admission form (and a few other forms) of disclosing the caste of the student. I knew jack squat about caste then, at all of 12 years - my previous years of education having been outside the country. Through the next few years of my education there, it came up a couple of times more in different application forms and each time I would blink in a concentrated manner for a few minutes as I looked at the blank that followed that seemingly innocuous word : 'caste'.
I even remember a particular incident where one of my rather intelligent classmates proudly said that she belonged to the Backward Caste (or BC), and that therefore it would be easier for her to gain admission into medical school (She did get a seat). My point though, is that she was smart, so she should have probably got in anyway. Another friend, belonging to the so-called 'forward caste', whose parents had connections in the government, got her a fake certificate stating that she belonged to a backward caste to make her admission into college easier.
The issue didn't really affect me as I wasn't one of those who intended to study medicine or engineering, which was where the issue of caste really held sway over whether you got into college or not. But there was a point where many people were faking certificates and the like to stand a better chance of admissions into college, and I just didn't understand it. No, seriously. Call me an idiot or whatever but I found it ridiculous that people were resorting to things like that. I shouldn't have, I suppose, because I know now that it is certainly not uncommon in India. Plus, when I went to get admission into an arts and science college myself, I found that a certain number of seats HAD to go to students from a particular caste, and so on and so forth, and the issue of reservation for students from particular castes was very much prevalent there as well. If I was looking for immunity, I was disappointed because I certainly didn't find it there.
Of course, controversies will always surround the issue of reservation, and I think it is difficult to come to a 'one-fits-all' solution. To anyone who knows India's history, it wasn't a bad move to introduce reservations in India. Some truly deserving students belonging to SC's and ST's do benefit from reservation, without a doubt. My friend who got into medical school, for example, is doing an M.D at Harvard now. If she did not belong to a BC, it is possible that she may not have got into medical school in India in the first place, and a good doctor would have been lost then and there. But the reverse is also true,which necessarily means that sometimes, some deserving non-SC/ST students lose out on seats as well.
Anyhow, what started me off on this topic was this article I read today that says that the Supreme Court has decreed that schools cannot compel students to disclose caste. Interestingly, a PIL filed by someone from Tamilnadu who sought a complete ban on caste-disclosure forms in schools, was dismissed by the Supreme Court on the grounds that it would create problems for those who wanted to avail of free scholarships and other benefits.
Being at the 2007 U.S.Open was a great experience. It was a psychotically hot day but I could feel the buzz, especially when Roger Federer walked onto Center Court. He plays so effortlessly, it almost makes you think he isn't even trying. The husband calls him an alien, because he doesn't exhibit 'human qualities'. I beg to differ. The man excels at his sport. That doesn't come without years of hard work, discipline and dedication.
And to think he is my age.
He won $2 million at the U.S.Open - plus a Lexus. Peanuts for him, possibly. I'm wondering now when he will start slowing down. Not anytime soon, by the looks of it!
So this was a proper indoor studio shoot. Recorded, not live, like my outing to Good Morning America's studio last week. Apparently they had 110,000 audience applications for the first 3 weeks of shooting the new season, so a big Thank You to my friend N who got tickets and passed them on to me.
First, Rachael Ray rocks. The warm-up guy, comedian R.C Smith (they actually have a guy whose job it is to entertain the audience in between shots), did say that if we hadn't been on any other show before then we wouldn't want to after being on Rachael Ray, and he wasn't lying. It was super fun. I got there huffing and puffing like a crazy maniac (I always have stories, don't I), pushed as I was to run for close to twenty minutes non-stop amid the busy New York streets, to make sure I got to the studio on time. And I just made it, because they started admitting people soon after I joined the queue. Mandatory security check complete, we went up to the waiting room where we were provided free food and coffee. Then we were herded inside the studio, which was colorful and swanky. It was divided into three parts - the kitchen, a garden area and a sort of lounge area. The best part was definitely the rotating lazy susan on which the audience chairs were fixed, so we were turned around to face whichever part of the studio the shot was being taken in, without having to move a muscle.
They were shooting segments of two separate episodes yesterday. Both had celebrity guests, and we were kept in the dark as to who they were. The first was Valerie Bertinelli (the lady who comes in the Jenny Craig ads), and of course she was on the cooking segment. Rachael and her look a lot alike - seriously, they could be cousins, as she said, and they spoke about her weight loss with Jenny Craig and her son Wolfgang's impending tour with Van Halen (she is married to guitarist Eddie from the band). They did unexpected things like burning a pair of Valerie's old size 14 jeans in a barbeque grill so that she wouldn't go back to her old weight ever again (if that works, I should try burning my old clothes too - ha ha ha!!!), and Rachael made a yummy-looking turkey bacon burger with onion rings in the Barbie-type kitchen. (When I say Barbie-type, I mean an orange stove and an electric blue fridge, for starters!).
The second celebrity guest (and this was definitely the most memorable part of my trip to the studio) was....was.....WAS....DANIEL RADCLIFFE!!!! No kidding. Harry Potter in all his sixteen-year-old glory. He was rather cute, very British and I couldn't believe I was seeing him!!! Rachael is a lovely conversationalist, and got him to speak about his take on a lot of interesting things:
on the fame, post-Harry Potter: Rachael: How is it being so famous? Daniel: It's just great, really. Rachael: Thank God he's not like other stars who pretend to hate the fact that they're famous!
...his experience working on the upcoming 'December Boys', shot in Australia: Daniel: I'd been to Australia a few times and just love the country, so shooting there was fun. Except it was in this rural part of Australia, an island called Kangaroo Island, and after living in London all my life it was such a change. I think Australia is my favourite country apart from England, sorry!! (this to the audience, referring to America of course!)
...his experience acting in a nude scene for his London stage debut in 'Equus': Rachael: What was it like shooting that? Did you enjoy the whole thing or was it weird to have so many people watch you? Daniel: I couldn't have done it if I was in America because you aren't allowed to shoot nude scenes if you are under sixteen, but of course London doesn't care about all that! It was weird, being watched by so many people.
Rachael: What is the weirdest thing a fan has ever done? Daniel: Well when I was doing the nude scene, there was this one person who picked up my boxers from the corner of the stage where I'd taken them off, and just legged it! __________________
Yeah. It was quite cool. Rachael Ray herself is cute as a button and seems to be quite a nice person. No attitude or anything. I guess if you have a talk show, you have to be personable! We got free boxes of sweet potato cookies, which weird as they sound, actually tasted quite nice. And then of course there were the games where R.C.Smith picked on random members of the audience and asked them questions and gave them goodie-bags. He was good, a really funny guy.
I'm glad THAT's been crossed off my to-do list. Being part of audience on American TV show - indoor and outdoor - done. :-)
Ten years ago, there was a tremendous outpouring of grief across the world when a vivacious, attractive woman died in a car accident. She was known as the 'The People's Princess', and often used her magnetism to spread the word about the menace of landmines. She was also one of the first high-profile people to be photographed touching a person with AIDS, way back in 1987. As Bill Clinton said "It helped change world's opinion, and gave hope to people with AIDS."
She got married to the heir to the British throne the same year I was born, and as we were in the very country that happened, quite a few of the souvenirs my parents brought back when they returned to India were things that had her face on them. I can't remember where I saw the extensive TV coverage of her wedding years later, but I still remember the long trail of her white veil as she walked down the steps of the church. 25 feet it was, apparently. And she was all of 20. She didn't have a very happy life, but she made sure her two sons never saw much of that. She did what I believe all mothers do. In her son's words,
"She kissed us last thing at night. Her beaming smile greeted us from school. She laughed hysterically and uncontrollably when sharing something silly she might have said or done that day. She encouraged us when we were nervous or unsure."
In 1997, I was still in school. It was a holiday - the weekend, I believe - and I saw the coverage on TV early in the morning, as news flowed in about her accident. Hours later, when her death was confirmed and the bouquets started mounting up outside the gates of Buckingham Palace, I still wasn't sure why I was sad. As I type this now, ten years later to the day, I think I know why. Despite the intense media scrutiny of almost every movement she made, every haircut she had, every outfit she wore, she was also very normal. Just like you and me. She wanted to be. She was pretty and personable. The people loved her for who she was. They felt they were a bit like her. I felt like I was a bit like her.
Which nut wakes up at 5 a.m to do something that is not work-related?
Me.
Nice to meet you.
For one of those few times in my life, luck decided to favour me and I was selected to be part of 'Good Morning America', ABC's daily morning news show, yesterday morning. So if I had to get up at 5 a.m, then so be it! After reaching Times Square at 6 a.m and getting pissed off with the sidey characters who made random comments at me (6 a.m!! Eve-teasers need to get a life. The sun hadn't even risen yet), I was allotted to the group that was going to be in the audience for the 'Dancing for the Stars' segment on the show. Being part of the television audience for an American TV show is supposed to be one of those things that one must do if they get a chance (or so I'd been told - see, I'm a sucker for all these things!). The show tapes 7-9 a.m, but our segment went on around 8 a.m, prior to which there were a couple of trial runs in a little cement island in the middle of busy Times Square, which is where the segment was to be shot.
For those of you who are not familiar with 'Dancing with the Stars', it is one of those reality shows that pits famous people against each other in a dancing competition. I think it's one of the most-watched reality shows in the US, second of course to the all-pervasive 'American Idol'. Yesterday's show had some hot salsa dancers to showcase the programme, and the co-hosts of the show, Tom Bergeron and Samantha Harris (who had some of the younger members of the audience screaming and fervently asking for autographs and photos) revealed the participants for next season.
So, what was it like being there? First, the show taped outside, so there was none of the 'ooohhh I'm in a TV studio with real sets' kind of feeling. Second, all that was seen of me by the one person I know who watched the show, was me waving and screaming enthusiastically, standing on the top row of bleachers right behind Diane Sawyer (the anchor of the show) and the sexy-looking co-hosts. I'd only ever seen posters of Sawyer with her fellow anchors while riding on the subway - never really watched her on TV before, but she was all made-up and gave the air of 'I know I'm important', if you know what I mean. But with the sexy-looking Bergeron and Harris there, not to forget the salsa dancers (pictured above) who's going to look at the audience?!!! Anyway, anyone who knows me will probably vouch for the fact that if ever 'enthusiastic' people are needed, I can be counted on to pep up the atmosphere. Earned me the not-so-attractive nickname of 'enthu-pat' in college (short for 'enthu-pattani', translatable as 'enthusiastic pea' - whoever came up with it is DUMB!!!!!).
But (and there always is a but, pardon the pun), just being in Times Square at that hour was sort of surreal. The lights and billboards never stop flashing in all their glory, and I'm a fan of the bright lights - not just the billboards but the studio lights as well. It's all so exciting, and heck, I'm not a filmstar!!! :-D
The hot salsa dancers and the hot judges were worth it, in any case. The Johnny Cash-inspired soundtrack for the show which they played in between had the salsa dancers (and me) snapping their fingers, and was fun too.
So, yeah, an experience to smile about as I reminisce when I'm older, that's for sure!
I was shopping at Forever 21 the other day, and when I got home, I noticed the words 'John 3:16' written on the underside of the bag as I was putting it away. I was quite intrigued, looked it up, and this is the Bible passage quoted : "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." Why would anyone put that on the bag of a large clothing store, I wondered.
I found more in this 2005 article. Apparently the founder of the chain is deeply religious and according to a corporate spokesman, it is "evidence of faith". He is, in fact, not the first one to subtly insert religious references in consumer goods: other chains that tried to do so (or still do) were Starbucks Coffee, In-N-Out Burger, Alaska Airlines and craft chain Hobby Lobby.
Even a basic knowledge of American politics or society is enough for anyone to know that there is a large population that is very religious in this country - abortion and gay rights are key points in differentiating between Democrats and Republicans, for example. Was this retail chain trying to appeal to its Christian consumers, or say something to its non-Christian ones in this subtle manner? I don't really think so. Perhaps it is nothing more or less than a profession of faith. This particular instance was unexpected advocacy of Christianity so I was momentarily surprised, but then I thought : he's not doing anyone any harm, is he, and its his clothing chain after all. And a pretty successful one at that!
The worst thing that anyone can do to themselves is play the ‘what if’ game, not realizing that ‘what if’ is neither past, present nor future. It didn’t happen, it’s not happening now and it won’t happen either, because the point in time that you keep referring to has already lapsed. The scenario you keep thinking of in your ‘what if’ game is a backdated dream. If it was to have happened, it would have. It didn’t. Forget it. Period.
What’s also important to realize is that ‘what if’ couldn’t have happened anyway because you were not then who you are now, which is when you’re asking the ‘what if’ questions. Change is intrinsic to life. It may or may not mean progress, but it happens nevertheless. Therefore, you’re not even talking about the same person, in a manner of speaking. Thoughts, hopes, dreams, beliefs – some or all of them would have changed for you. It’s like comparing apples with tomatoes. They’re both red, but that’s about it.
I see my cousin following a similar path, education-wise, that I followed years ago and I'm desperate that she doesn't make the same mistakes. She's grateful I'm there to dispense some so-called wisdom, having been there before, and I'm glad I can be there for her. But the truth is, she will probably listen to me but go ahead and do what her heart says is right. Which is the way it should be. I'm just petrified she will ask the 'what if' question a few years down the line, just like me.
I'm hopeful she won't, though. She's a smart kid. If she turns out to be a success, I will be one happy person.
I had a rather 'rich' morning viewing tons and tons of gold bars in a vault...it's true, really! OK, it wasn't like I came into some super inheritance or anything, before anyone gets any ideas!! I went on a tour of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York. I'd recommend it for 3 reasons - it's short, it's interesting, and it's not on your usual tourist list of 'Things I must do/see in New York'. It's free, and all you need to do is reserve a place in advance.
While you wait for the tour to start, there's a very detailed collection of monetary coins and notes of the world, dating back to the days of the barter system, courtesy the American Numismatic Society. Of special note is the 1933 Double Eagle coin, which is basically a gold coin which has a value of US$20, but was sold at an auction forUS$ 7.59 million!!! It has an interesting history which I'm not going to get into right now, but I wholeheartedly suggest glancing at it - HERE!
The vault of course is the most attractive part of the tour, and it does not disappoint. The Federal Bank of New York essentially holds gold bars belonging to about 36 foreign governments, central banks and international organizations - only about 5% of U.S gold reserves are actually held here, the majority being in Fort Knox. The vault rests on the rock bottom of Manhattan Island and is 50 feet below sea level. The door to the vault (there is only one), which was installed in 1914 and has not been changed since (except for regular maintenance), consists of a 90-ton steel cylinder which is rotated 90 degrees to achieve airtight and watertight sealing. It is completely manual, which means that even if the electricity were to go off, it would not hamper the security of the bars. I went through this door and while I was there, a bank official was showing some other officials how the cylinder moved, as a result of which I got to see the entire contraption in motion - and it certainly did seem a 'masterpiece of protective engineering', as the brochure I later on read, noted. And it needs to be, with US$140 billion in gold currently being held inside!
Mostly for the entertainment of young visitors (I'm not ancient, but I mean schoolkids here!), there are a range of interactive educational games once you finish the tour, and I had a blast with them. I certainly learnt my bit about the monetary system for the day!
The Salmagundi Art Club in New York is one of the last brownstone buildings on Fifth Avenue, and is the venue for regular exhibitions of painting, photography and sculpture by its member-artists, as well as regular classes for the public in art. It started as the New York Sketch Club in 1871 and moved to its current headquarters in 1917. The building’s history, heritage and architecture lend a fitting charm to the place of creativity that it is. It is open to the public from 1 to 5 p.m every day of the week, and admission is free. For lovers of art, I’d suggest a look.
Any guesses on the origin of the name ‘Salmagundi’? The word means ‘potpourri’ and was adopted after Washington Irving’s paper of the same name came into existence – it was intended to refer to the mix of wit and wisdom that the paper was supposed to be. Interestingly, Irving also used the term ‘Gotham’ to refer to New York City in his Salmagundi Papers in 1807, with reference to Gotham, England where wise men acted as fools in the hope that King John would change his decision to settle there and consequently burden the village with royal upkeep. And GothamCity, of course, provides the setting for a very famous comic book – no prizes for guessing which!!!
Grand Central Terminal (yes, THE Grand Central), is a beaux-arts building in the heart of New York City, and, as anyone who has seen it will probably vouch for, it is impressive from the outside. But what I found even more impressive was the inside of the building. During the days when steam locomotives chugged around the United States of America, Grand Central was essentially a rail yard. Hence the name ‘terminal’ (and not, as many people believe, ‘station’). Interesting note: in the olden days, ‘stations’ in America denoted post offices and not, as they are now commonly perceived, railway stations!
The inside of Grand Central is an example of architecture in its true sense. As our extremely well-informed guide informed us, architecture has to do with people and spaces, and the Grand Central Terminal reflects exactly that. It is designed to inspire awe. It is designed to enable people-watching during those long waits for trains, with plenty of comfortable spaces, railings and balconies at different levels. It is designed so that people who run to catch their trains have enough space to dash so that they do not bump into other commuters. In fact, each slab of stone on the floor of the building is exactly the length and width of a human-being – a wonderful example of the involvement of the building with the people it was constructed for, and the stairs are built with the human body in mind as well – each step has been built so that a person can walk down the stairs without even requiring to look down, because it is exactly the height and length of a normal human step.
I spent a very interesting afternoon walking around Grand Central. Truly an afternoon well spent – away from the cold!
Well, hello again my dear reader, from Frankfurt airport this time - my fifth visit to this airport this year. Thanks to the fact that security checks took all of two minutes as opposed to the two HOURS that they took last time and were also intimated to us passengers by the landing crew to take this time, I am, as you can see, left with a bit of time on my hands before I board my next flight. I'm not complaining though, because guess what I got to do in my spare time here - eat strawberry cheesecake ice-cream from Haagen-Dazs, my favourite! Yeah, I still think most people would certify me crazy for deriving such orgasmic pleasure out of such a simple thing. I even lurked about cautiously with the ice-cream in my hands, half-afraid someone would be able to read my mind and learn how insanely happy I was. This was the first time I was tasting that divine taste since my time in London in 2003, and boy, did I savour every lick of it!
And guess what I saw on sale at an electronics shop in the duty-free area a while ago - frikkin' PORN! I kid you not. I always knew Amsterdam was liberal but I didn't think Frankfurt was a place where you'd see porn in the airport. Ha ha.
Frankfurt airport is also smoky. I've been here many times before but this time the smell of smoke was the first thing that assailed my senses when I entered the terminal. I prefer airports like Tokyo to this - at least they have dedicated smoking rooms where all the smokers can go and inhale their self-created fresh air (as one of my smoke-addict colleagues puts it!!). I mean..I'm fine with smoking as long as it is in an open area. I'm also fine with smoke if its in pubs or clubs (I know pubs are closed spaces, but I think it's the logic of a pub/club being created for people to drink and smoke and generally have a good time, and I'm certainly not opposed to that). Sort of contradicts what I just said maybe, but that's just what I think and I'm a person of contradictions - so sue me!! Anyway, I'm pretty sure smoke is part of the reason why Frankfurt airport is the way it is - 'mechanical and clinical', as my friend the Raccoon opines about Frankfurt airport in HIS blog. And it's probably marble-floored for the same reason - imagine the stink if they had carpets that the smoke clung on to. Changi Airport in Singapore, in comparison, is a superb airport - carpeted all over, with designated smoking rooms and probably one of the best airports in the world.
So that's my take on Frankfurt airport for now. I've got Kiran Desai's 'The Inheritance of Loss" (yes, finally managed to buy a copy at Bangalore airport) to keep me company, and also an Indian lady I just met who seems to be in the mood for conversation and I don't want to seem rude - so I'll catch you guys later. Auf wiedersehen!
Is it worth it to stay up working till 2 AM in the office when you know you need sleep and will be groggy and bad-tempered the next morning for your 8 AM meeting, all for the sake of a job you will be quitting in 22 days?
I write because I want to write. No, really. I write because I want to re-acquaint myself with the language I was once so familiar with. Words that I loved to use once upon a time that are lost now, that resurface unexpectedly, like quiet echoes in a valley. I want to hear laughter through words, and sadness and anger. I laughed today, eating my Oreo cheesecake. I laughed like that years ago, in Leicester Square, eating strawberry cheesecake ice-cream. In childlike glee. Childlike. Glee. See what I mean, words which are so visual they make you understand immediately. They make you SEE immediately. That is the power of words. Take ‘icy stare’. I’d hate to be looked at by someone like that. Or ‘soul-shattering tears’. I’ve cried like that a few times. It really did feel like my soul was being shattered, like I was being asphyxiated by my own self. In today’s world of the omnipresent Internet (how many people with access to the Internet do NOT visit Yahoo, Hotmail, or Google at least once a day), television (likewise for BBC, NDTV, MTV, or Discovery) and radio (ditto Radio City, Radio Mirchi, Magic 105.4 or the radio stations of whichever city you’re in) – all of these being brilliant introductions to the world notwithstanding, I think I’ve lost the comfort I used to have with plain-Vanilla English, as it is written on paper. (Words seem more beautiful to me, somehow, when I see them on paper. Like seeing a bride on her wedding day, as opposed to seeing her in photos. Somehow, reading a book on a computer is not the same as the real thing. And I’ve done that as well – reading an e-book, I mean). Less meaningful conversations with people and more dependence on technology mean less moments to remember Forever. I want to read, and discuss, and debate and converse – and write. I want to swim in turquoise-blue pools.
It’s a pleasant grey day today here in Bangalore. By pleasant I mean it’s not so overcast you feel the grey of the concrete pavement is a happier colour to look at than the sky. There are tinges of blue even, showing through here and there, and the lake outside my office building looks greener than ever (Yes, green. This lake has never been blue in all the time I’ve looked at it). Funnyman (previously called V, which was highly unimaginative, shame on me) is now living up the New York life while I am being wished farewell and congratulated and tying loose ends up before I quit work next month. Oh, I didn’t mention that I was requested by my boss to stay a few weeks more than initially planned (that essentially means one more trip to good ol’ Portland is in the offing), and I agreed. I’m a bit nervous about what’s going to happen next year, a bit excited, and a bit of me feels like I’m watching the story of someone else’s life on TV or something. I don’t know if that’s usual or I’m just unusual. This whole new phase thing also means that I am not restricted to doing the same thing I was earlier, in terms of work, when I start working again. That also means I don’t know if I should stay on in the corporate world, or go back to the development one, and even if I do stay on in the corporate world then what kind of job do I do? This is one of the quandaries I fall into every time I start thinking about my career, irrespective of the fact that I have never got anything less than a pretty successful performance review every single time I’ve had one, no kidding. I feel I’m sort of a Jack-of-all-Trades (yes I know how that phrase ends but I’m being positive here for a change). Someone once said it’s OK to try out whatever jobs you want to till you’re 30, but after that you need to fall back on the one job that will give you security. I don’t know if I will ever get that fall-back plan in place even when I’m 40! I suppose that’s why I’m marrying someone who is as constant as constant can ever get. In my world of change and often-confusion, that’s a relief.
As an aside, the sun is now shining and the lake looks silver.
Wow, that was one large amalgamation of words. Also one large vent for my current thoughts. Bye for now.
I have a weakness for sweets. I admit it openly. I think they are among the things that make life worth living. I mean, do other animals know the difference between strawberry cheesecake and a rasogulla? It's probably all the same to them! The kind of happiness I get from good desserts is slightly difficult to parallel. Those of you who have tasted good food know what I'm talking about. There are people who say we should not live to eat but eat just to get the bare minimum nutrition required - and well, live. I beg to differ.
I've been compiling a list of the best desserts I have tasted in my life so far, and while the list is progressing very slowly (there really are not as many desserts around that send my tastebuds to heaven - average just doesn't bear mentioning here), I think I will put the list up for public display now and keep adding to it as the years go by, instead of waiting till I get a definite number. If anyone reading this has any more suggestions to offer, by all means, do let me know!
1. Banoffee Pie at The Big Chill, New Delhi 2. Oreo Cheesecake at Spiga’s, Bangalore 3. Strawberry Cheesecake ice-cream from Haagen-Dazs with whipped cream and coloured sprinkles on top 4. Hot chocolate at Ghirardelli Square, San Francisco 5. Lemon Passion Cake at The Macaroni Grill, Portland, Oregon 6. Watermelon ice cream (seasonal) at Gokul, Santacruz, Bombay 7. My mom’s sponge cake :-)
And the best years of my life are yet to come - whoohoo!
One of the things I like about this place is the air. It is pristine. It smells like sparkling white sheets in a five-star hotel bedroom. Even better than that, it smells of Nature - pine trees, bubbling water in a brook and the vast sky, overcast with rain clouds or happy sunshine. Water and the sky don't really have smells of their own, but if they did, this is what I think they would smell like. It really does add a spring to my step. Un peu d'air sur terre (as the French clothing company's tagline goes) really makes a difference, especially if it revitalises you like this.
This picture was taken in June, and its not so sunny or warm over here now, but the air is certainly as fresh!
I finally told my boss that I’ll be quitting work in November. I felt awful doing it, but as luck would have it, it came up in the most unusual way. I thought I’d let him know at the end of this month, but yesterday we were enjoying some juicy cheeseburgers at Red Robin in Beaverton, Ore., (aside: Red Robin gives McDonald’s a run for their money in the burger department) and he asked me when I was planning to get married. I ‘fessed that January was the month, and then my team-mates started cracking what they thought were jokes about my impending resignation. Imagine the look on their faces when I very seriously said that they had actually hit the nail on the head and I was really planning to leave! They said they’d have no more of Red Robin, ever. Ha. But knowing the bottomless pit that their stomachs are and their fascination for Red Robin burgers, that’s highly unlikely! :-)
I’m trying to understand why I feel bad in the knowledge that these will be my last few weeks at work in India. Is it because I like my job? Or working in general, i.e keeping myself busy? Or because I like these people (even if they get on my nerves once in a while?!)
My first corporate job is coming to an end. The impending close of another phase in my life.
I went for a friend’s wedding in Madras this morning. It was Tamil Brahmin Iyer wedding, and an early morning ‘muhurtham’ meant I was able to make it only for the latter half of the ceremony. Tamil Brahmins have a whole load of ceremonies that are included in the ‘upgrade’ of the selected pair from bachelorhood to coupledom. It’s a long list, and if you’re interested, you can catch them here. Weddings might be boring affairs for some people, tiring and long even, but they are also very meaningful, especially this kind. Also, at the end of the day, I guess there is a reason why every Tom, Dick and Gurinder Chadha make millions out of The Great Indian Wedding. They are quite a sight and a very social affair, with women decked up to the neck in rich silks and beautiful jewellery, and men on their best behaviour – one reason why weddings are often hunting grounds for prospective brides and grooms. Of course, North Indian weddings are radically different from South Indian ones, and within those regions, greater differences exist, so let’s not get into that!
So, as I was saying, the wedding was very nice. The bride had called me up a couple of weeks go when she landed from New York for her wedding to ask if I could make it, and though I haven’t seen much of her the last few years, what stayed with me from my past was that she was a gem of a person. So I made the trip here, and I’m glad I did.
At the end of the day, that’s what I’d like to be remembered as – a really nice person. She really is. I hope she has a wonderful married life.
