The Beautiful Hospital vs. The Ugly Hospital vs. The Real Hospital

Sallie Tisdale in Salon on the medical realities portrayed in television shows : House vs. ER vs. Grey's Anatomy vs. Scrubs. She's a real-life nurse in a real hospital, by the way.

An excerpt:

Like a lot of people who work in healthcare -- I'm a nurse -- I started watching "House" because of the mysterious diseases involved. Everyone loves a rare disease. And I was perversely charmed by the title character's nastiness. House says the kind of things I sometimes want to say -- mostly, to doctors. (Dr. Weber: "I know I know you." House: "Sure you do, Dick." Weber: "The name's Phillip." House: "Oh, my bad. Something to do with your face. I always think your name is Dick.") I kept watching in spite of his flamingly litigious behavior: He calls one patient "Mrs. Nympho" and says of a Chinese woman, "Not the sharpest chopstick in the drawer, is she?" I watched for a whole season, in spite of knowing that the crude passes, Internet porn and Vicodin addiction meant that any doctor like him would be both bankrupt and imprisoned.

The P Problem

Why do I have to pee so much when I drink alcohol?

Question: Why do I have to pee so much when I drink alcohol?

Answer: Alcohol is a diuretic--the overabundant urge to urinate while drinking is caused by the alcohol's diuretic properties. Specifically, alcohol causes your body to expel water. Since your body is persistently excreting more water than is ingested you run the risk for dehydration. Being dehydrated is the main reason you have a whopping headache, feel fatigued, and thirsty the next day.


OK, all that is fine. I have a question: has ANYONE - anyone - ever had the experience of becoming completely sober (or at least 80% sober) the MINUTE you go to the washroom (why am I bothering to be delicate anyway?!!!) after ingesting alcohol???

Responses appreciated :-)

Offside

Sometimes I take my freedom for granted. My freedom to act like a woman, do the things I want to do, see the things I want to see, be the person I want to be. The reality is that there are women and girls out there who don’t have that freedom. Watching ‘Offside’ today reminded me of that.

‘Offside’ is the story of six Iranian girls who try to sneak into the qualifying match for the 2006 Soccer World Cup between Iran and Bahrain. In Iran, for those of you who are not aware, it is banned for women to attend men’s sporting events. With loose shirts and caps covering their heads, their attempted camouflage of their female selves does not work, and they are all caught and put into a small barred area outside the stadium, pending their transportation to higher authorities. I wouldn’t call the movie startlingly brilliant or any of the other glowing compliments that movies of this genre often do receive (and this one has, in fact, received a postive review from the New York Times as well). I’ll be completely honest: it was funny in parts and did not shock the sensibilities of the viewer, nor did it attempt to draw the viewer in with an overdose of emotion. ‘Offside’ has been made like a documentary, indeed it IS one – the actors are all first-timers, unpolished and therefore largely realistic, and it was shot for a large part during the actual qualifying match between Iran and Bahrain in 2005.

Surprisingly, this is one movie I was completely neutral about. But I thought the premise that the director based the movie on was good – lots of people today are probably not aware of seemingly simple issues like these being, well, issues, in countries like Iran, because they have never needed to fight for their rights to watch a live match in this day and age. Jafar Panahi’s movies are in fact banned in Iran because he shows the country for what it is – one of his earlier movies, ‘The Circle’, followed a group of women around Tehran as they tried to evade injustice.

Something I thought was interesting, though, was that there was a young girl, no more than 13 or 14 years old, watching the movie with her parents. The movie is rated PG-13, and at that age, I thought it was noteworthy that her parents were bringing her to a movie about girls in a part of the world that is so removed from where she is. She’ll probably grow up to be a sensitive adult, and we need more of those in this world.

The Wonderful Years

I watched the Wonder Years last night and was transported back to the age when everything was simple and innocent and yet so different and full of angst. Growing up was a hard thing to do. The Wonder Years is one of my favorite TV shows, and I haven’t watched a re-run in years and years. I couldn’t help but smile longingly as I watched Kevin, Winnie and Paul at the start of their teenage years. I remember the confusion I felt when you know those people from the other planet – BOYS – started talking to me a bit more than usual. I remember trying to be haughty and avoid listening to their taunts as I rushed along the corridors to get to class. I remember getting into a fight with that girl who talked to boys all the time and who threatened to ‘report’ me because she thought I was the one spreading rumors about her. (Star TV had just about made its advent into the country and my hometown was more of a homevillage back then – girls talking to boys all the time – how SCANDALOUS!!!!)..and no, it really wasn’t me. I remember playing Hide and Seek in my grandmother’s huge house, and Dark Room and other such fun games with my classmates when they came over one day. Even Name Place Animal Thing! India was still so new to me then, I’d just moved from Saudi Arabia where society was even more closeted and at that age, I felt like it was a new world. With my pigtails and big spectacles, I was certainly not part of the cool gang on my first day. But then, India back then – or at least my school, didn’t have those group labels yet. I misheard a proper South Indian name like ‘Sugalesini’ as ‘Subbulakshmi’ (probably one of the few names I was familiar with), who was the girl sitting next to me on my first day at school. I remember asking K to be my ‘best friend’ because you know, everyone had a best friend back then and she was new too. I probably figured it would be my best shot – but you know what? Fourteen years later, she’s one of the few people I can still really talk to, and she still lives down the road from me. Just as she used to in India. In another country. How’s that for Providence?!!!

I hated a lot of what I went through back then, but they probably were a large contribution to who I am today. I’m glad I went through my Wonder Years, even if I was not as enlightened then as my Big City Sisters. Those are the kind of girls who later became my college classmates, but that’s a different story altogether!

Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil!

Pictures speak louder than words!

YouTube...OurTube

Read this article on why human rights activists in the future are going to depend more and more on online sites like YouTube to change the legal landscape, and the cultural one as well.

Also see my earlier related post about waterboarding, a phenomenon also mentioned in the above article.

Presenting...

......the 2007 Bentley Continental GTC Convertible!

I saw this baby on the road yesterday.....and wished I had some extra cash to spend..or 'bend' ;-)

It's a Brit thing, maybe?

Do Americans have a thing for British accents, or am I missing something?

Here's one ad that's airing:

...and here's another:

Shi(f)t Happens!

Take a look at this video. It talks about what the future’s going to look like for us, with some pretty interesting facts. I’ll name just a few, most of which we know but I think it’s just that it never really hits us (well it didn’t hit me anyway) till we see it all put together like this.-

- The top 28% of people with highest IQ in India is greater than the total population of America

- If all the jobs that exist in the US were currently shifted to China, China would still have a labor surplus

- Job-hopping is on the rise – 1 in 4 people today work for a company which has employed them for less than a year

- We perform 2.7 billion searches on Google each month – where did we go (and I like this abbreviation) B.G (before Google)?

- A week’s worth of NYT contains more information than a person was likely to come across in his entire lifetime in the 18^th century.

- The amount of technical information is doubling every 2 years – this means that for college students, what they study in Year 1 will be obsolete by Year 3. (The computer language I studied when I was in school – BASIC, is not even spoken of, anymore!)

***

I also watched a TV show last night called ‘Spotlight 25’ where the host of the show spoke to a group of 25-year-old women about their values, beliefs and aspirations - thoughts on life, love and sex. Some of what was said actually just confirmed what the video above said – most of the women on the show had already switched jobs at least 5 times, for example – they didn’t want to stay in a job which didn’t give them as much satisfaction as they were looking for. But more importantly, the show revealed us for who we are: things like moving up the career ladder being important, but getting married and having a family being as important – there was one 25 –year-old on the show who was married with 2 kids, and had a hectic but well-managed schedule getting the kids ready for day-care in the morning, getting to work and being a top performer, picking up the kids on her way back home, and then going for a run in the evening before her day ended. Another one gave up her six-figure salaried job to set up a firm of her own, yet another went to Africa to build homes for underprivileged kids there while putting her own full-time job at risk.

It IS true that a lot of the time I think about where my peers are and try to assess whether I have been ‘left behind’, as one girl said on the show, but at the end of the day every person is unique, and comparisons are odious. What makes you happy may not make another person happy, and you have to go for what YOU want, because that’s the only way you’ll be happy yourself.

We are, after all, a generation that should be known as trailblazers to our future generations. There is so much we have that our mothers didn’t – like the Internet, for example!

Media Consumption Meme

I figured this would be an interesting exercise to do – taken from Jinal via Anastasia at YPulse. I am not highly tech-savvy at all, but here goes anyway:

Web: Plenty, plenty of websites, especially now that I have some time on my hands. I usually go to NYT, The Guardian, Salon, Slate, Rediff, BBC and NDTV for current affairs and generally interesting articles. The NYT Arts, Style and Travel sections have some good stuff going as well. For a list of events that are currently happening in the city, I check out Flavorpill. The blogs I usually read are linked to in my own blog.

Communication: Yahoo! Mail, Hotmail (yes I still use it, inspite of V’s repeated digs at me that I am probably one of ten people still using it!!) and to a smaller extent Gmail. I got a Gmail account when they were handing them out free and everyone’s opinion, since Yahoo! Mail and Hotmail had limited mailbox sizes then, was ‘You really should get a Gmail account, you know’. So I did, but then Yahoo and Hotmail woke up and that leaves my Gmail inbox quite empty now, mostly! I use Gtalk more than MSN Messenger or Yahoo Messenger though, funnily enough. I used to like Orkut, but I don’t anymore, though I still have an account. I find it a bit too intrusive, though it also helps re-discovering people you knew years ago (if you want to re-discover them in the first place, that is!!). I’m not on Facebook, mySpace, linkedin, Hi5 or any of the 100 other networking sites that exist – one exhausts me enough.

Music: I belong to the Stone Age, my friends, I admit. I do NOT own an iPod (for Heaven’s sake don’t shriek in shock so loudly, people!!). I rely on the good old ancient radio, and the computer as well – I just listen online. Viva Radio and 106.7 Lite FM are my current favorites. I don’t have a CD system at home yet, so I don’t listen to too many CD’s at the moment either. I used to, when I was in India.

TV: My saviour, LOL. I watch just about anything that can hold my interest for longer than 5 minutes, or else pique it. Of course, I always go back to the millionth re-run of Friends, Sex and the City, Everybody Loves Raymond, Home Improvement, Will and Grace or Full House. V likes Seinfeld and though I didn’t think it was THAT entertaining earlier, I think it’s pretty funny now. I also like Grey’s Anatomy and ER, and thanks to V again, House MD. I used to watch Desperate Housewives, but have lost interest now. That could also be because I’m not sure when it comes on in the US, so if anyone knows, shout out – thanks. I like watching cookery shows on occasion, and if I’m extremely jobless, What Not to Wear on Style. Yeah, that’s right.

Movies: Anyone who’s been reading my blog lately knows that I’ve been overdosing on them, so of course I love movies. I’m not going to repeat the names of the last few movies I watched - please scroll down to my last couple of blog entries and that should fill you in.

Magazines: The web pretty much covers most of it, but when I get my hands on Outlook, India Today, Femina, Cosmopolitan, Glamour and The Economist, I like reading the hard copies as well.

Books: I recently read Freakonomics (Steven Levitt & Stephen Dubner), Passion India (Javier Moro) and Shalimar The Clown (Salman Rushdie), and am now devouring Orhan Pamuk’s The Black Book. I’d also like to read Snow and My Name is Red by Pamuk, Breakfast at Tiffany’s (Capote), On Beauty (Zadie Smith), Sacred Games (Vikram Chandra), and Lord of the Flies (William Golding), soon. I went into the Strand the other day and can’t wait to go back to buy some of them. If anyone hasn’t read Gregory David Roberts’ Shantaram, that’s high on my list of all-time favorites.

Newspapers: In India, I used to read The Hindu and The Indian Express, and FT occasionally. For a good laugh and some entertainment, there was always The Times of India. Here, the NYT sometimes, but seriously I think in America the printed word is a slave to the internet. Check out what the Freakonomics blog is saying about the growth of newspapers in – where else – India!

Yes, and that’s about it for now. Ciao.

Ooh la la!

This one is for the guys - two seriously hot women in the same video, Shakira and Beyonce. I wish it were two hot men, though, for my personal viewing pleasure ;) !!

Movie Nights!

So, since I HAVE been watching quite a few films of late, I thought I might as well scribble down my thoughts about two other Oscar-nominated movies I managed to catch over the last week – ‘The Queen’ (Best Actress for Helen Mirren) and ‘Little Miss Sunshine’ (Best Supporting Actor for Alan Arkin and Best Original Screenplay for Michael Arndt).

‘The Queen’, I felt, is not your typical movie, being as it is a biopic of Queen Elizabeth in the days following the death of Diana, Princess of Wales in 1997. It has a lot of shots of actual events that occurred when Diana was alive – such as Princess Diana’s interviews on TV, flowers offered by the public at the gates of Buckingham Palace and paparazzi shots of Diana with Dodi Al-Fayed. Helen Mirren is certainly brilliant – her mannerisms, gait and restrained acting all contributing to the Oscar that she was awarded, but so are Michael Sheen as Tony Blair and Helen McCrory as Cherie Blair. Very few people probably even spared a thought for the Queen in the uproar and media attention that followed Diana’s untimely fatal accident, but here you see her as someone very human, who had to take on a huge responsibility at a very young age (‘duty first, self second’, as she says, is what she's been taught) and understandably finds it difficult to move with the changing times, coming as she is from an entirely different generation altogether.

As for ‘Little Miss Sunshine’, I’d say this – it is totally a movie worth watching, because it is so WEIRDLY entertaining, something I certainly haven’t seen in a while. Following the not-so-trodden path of movies like ‘American Beauty’, it is the story of a completely dysfunctional American family, as we track their lives over the span of a couple of days. Well-written and edited (the movie won Best Original Screenplay, don’t forget), it follows the lives of young Olive (Abigail Breslin) who has won a chance to participate in the Little Miss Sunshine beauty pageant in California, her perfectionist father Richard (Greg Kinnear), her harried mother Sheryl (Toni Collette), Nietzsche-reading brother Dwayne (Paul Dano) who has taken an oath of silence till he achieves his goal of becoming an airforce pilot, heroin-snorting, invective-spouting grandfather (Alan Arkin), and gay suicidal uncle Frank (Steve Carell). I mean, 'how much more dysfunctional can you get!!!!', was my thought when all the characters came into their first scenes! Still, as the family rushes to get Olive to the pageant on time in their rundown van (which they call a bus), a number of quite crazy events happen, all adding to the madness. All in all, if you manage to lay your hands on a copy of this movie, I’d say go for it!

Paradise Lost? - and 'Paradise Now'

I passed the erstwhile site of the Twin Towers four times yesterday, as I traipsed around this teeming metropolis. And no matter how many times I go by, every single time I look at the rubble, one thought flashes in my mind: how can people be so ruthless as to fly entire planes into buildings when they know it is civilians that will be killed? People like you and me, who have done no great harm to politicians and governments (even if the reverse is not true). And at the same time, they have absolutely no value for their OWN lives either. They may have had their own reasons, but in that case go target the people who have contributed to the problems, not people who just want to go on with their daily lives, their small joys and sorrows.

Right? Wrong?

I don’t know if it was a coincidence that with all these thoughts crowded in my mind, I walked up past what is left of the WTC, to a screening of Hany Abu-Assad’s ‘Paradise Now’ by the School of Continuing and Professional Studies of New York University. A Palestinian film released in 2005, it is the story of Said, a suicide bomber whose father died when he was 10, executed for being a collaborator with the Israeli authorities. He grows up in a life that he feels is asphyxiating, humiliating and pointless – when we are introduced to him, he is a car mechanic. His friend Khaled is keen on being a martyr for ‘the cause’, and Said is confident that this will give his life some meaning as well. When the call comes for them to jump the line from Nablus to Tel Aviv to execute the so-called mission which will send them to paradise, they both walk into the plan comfortably. But (and there is always a ‘but’ isn’t there – this is where the movie picked up pace), the operation is botched and Khaled manages to get back to safety while Said walks around with a bomb plastered to his chest (only the people who put it on him can deactivate it – and they did not foresee that possibility). After a day of frantic searching, Khaled finally manages to locate him with the help of Suha, a customer at the garage that Said has a soft spot for (and vice-versa). She is the daughter of a Palestinian martyr herself, but grew up in France and Morocco and is completely against the principle of suicide bombing – ‘you are only giving the Israelis another reason to continue with their oppression’, she says, and ‘I’d rather he was alive than be proud of him’, in response to a comment by Said about her father. Said steadfastly believes, however, that suicide bombing will at least draw attention to the atrocities that the Israelis are committing against Palestine, and that at least then he will have freedom.

After he is given the green light by the group leader post his return, Said insists on completing the mission. Khaled tries to warn him against this, by now having second thoughts after his conversation with Suha. But Said is unwavering in his determination. Khaled, unwilling and unhappy but determined to stick with his friend till the end, reaches Tel Aviv with Said. At the last minute, Khaled calls the driver of the taxi who dropped them and asks him to return to pick them up. Said, after arguing with Khaled, finally agrees to go as well, but when the taxi arrives, Said packs Khaled in and mouths one word to the driver ‘Go!’.

We last see Said sitting in a packed bus in Tel Aviv with – well – people like you and me, but with a couple of soldiers for company also. A white screen fills the end - perhaps Said has reached his paradise.

The movie was submitted for the Oscars last year under the Best Foreign Film category, but the Academy rejected the nomination because it did not subscribe to the rules for films under the category – it has to be forwarded by a government, and what government, technically, does Palestine have? Finally, this year it was accepted when it was submitted again, though it did not win. It has, however, won numerous awards at the Golden Globes and film festivals in Berlin, Vancouver, Netherlands and Germany, among others.

I’m no film expert, though I love cinema – not just movies, but the art of it as well, which is why I am interested in watching smaller, independent movies like these. I think life is about expression, and everyone has a viewpoint. It only makes my life richer when I see, hear and learn about people that may or may not think like me. That’s what it’s all about isn’t it? Knowing what’s going on outside the comfort-cocoon we tend to create around ourselves.

Viva La Radio!

For people interested in electronic and alternative music, with a bit of rock thrown in sometimes, check out the sounds at Viva Radio. It's new, it's different - and no it's not Maggi Hot and Sweet !

All that glitters is gold

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$20, but was sold at an auction for US$ 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 monster that lurks beneath - another war for Afghanistan to wage

As if Afghanistan doesn’t have enough problems to deal with, this New York Times article profiles another : AIDS. It is struggling to rebuild the country as Taliban forces resurface, and the pandemic is kept shrouded in stigma and ignorance. Bordered by countries which have the fastest-growing incidence of AIDS in the world – Russia, China and India, and another two which have known problems of drug addiction and a growing HIV-positive population – Pakistan and Iran, the country is crippled with multiple problems that we can only pray are solved sooner rather than later. The situation clearly does not look good though, with ‘health workers remaining ill-informed and careless, often reusing needles even when they know it risks spreading the disease’. In a 2003 survey of 126 women working in the sex trade in Kabul, an NGO working in Afghanistan also reported that only one was familiar with condoms and only one had knowledge of HIV/AIDS. Five years down the lane, one cannot hope for much change on that front - there are too many battles being fought in the country as it is.

And so another Monday morning in 2007 commences....

Picture by Aaron Huey/Atlas Press, for The New York Times - Heroin users shooting up among ruined buildings in the old section of Kabul. Injectable heroin first hit the city’s streets about five years ago.

What's your DNA????

Beautiful. Taken from Disjointed Outpurings' latest. Try yours.

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Mira Nair's 'The Namesake' (based on the book by Jhumpa Lahiri)

Mira Nair’s ‘The Namesake’ has come in for some criticism, and there are some interesting anecdotes about some of the occurrences during the shooting of the film as well. I managed to catch a screening at New York’s indie-film-focused Angelika Film Theater, and was one of the 9 people that were assiduously waiting outside at 10 a.m for the theater to open for the 10.30 a.m show.

I read Jhumpa Lahiri’s book a few years ago, and have always had this thing for watching movies that are based on books, perhaps to see how closely the movie script has been able to stay true to the original story. In most cases (the Harry Potter series, the James Bond series, A Good Year, The Da Vinci Code, Pride and Prejudice, for example), the movies by themselves are reasonably interesting to watch, but ultimately, due to the pressure that a movie has for sticking to a reasonable time-limit, it does lose some of the essence of the book. Mira Nair, director of the highly acclaimed and entertaining ‘Monsoon Wedding’, does a fairly competent job with ‘The Namesake’, and is assisted by a repertoire of very able actors (Irrfan Khan, Tabu, Kal Penn, Zuleikha Robinson).

It could have been a typical ABCD movie (‘Flavors’, and the very unimaginatively titled ‘ABCD’, anyone??), but with the script of a book already in hand, Nair’s job is easier. The movie starts off in the Calcutta of the 1970’s, and has some excellent shots of the city (like statues of Goddess Kali during the festival, the Hooghly, and the crowded streets of the City of Joy). Ashoke Ganguli (Irrfan Khan), traumatized by a near-death train accident near Calcutta where Nikolai Gogol’s ‘The Overcoat’ was his traveling companion, makes a quick trip from New York to India a few years later, in the midst of his doctorate, to have a happy, traditional, arranged Bengali wedding to Ashima (Tabu). She accompanies her husband to the States, where she slowly settles into the American way of life. There are some well-captured scenes between Ashoke and Ashima in their first few years of marriage in New York – images of cold, wintry days in the City make you feel for the fresh-off-the-plane Ashima as Ashoke does his best to be a good husband. Many years and two children later, the couple moves to the suburbs where Ashoke has a job as a professor and Ashima takes up a job at the local library. The story then starts focusing more on Gogol/Nikhil (Penn), who is trying as best he can to be an American lad inspite of his very traditional Indian parents. A visit to the Taj Mahal during one of his family holidays to India motivates him to become an architect a few years later, and his life seems to be going well in New York, with a pretty, rich, well-educated American girlfriend Max (Jacinda Barrett) to boot, short for Maxine. (Ashima, when she talks about Maxine to her librarian-friend : ‘What kind of a girl has a name like Max?' ‘Maybe she isn’t a girl’ – and the subtle shock on Ashima’s face!!)

At four, Gogol insists on his pet name being adopted as his real name, though his parents had settled on ‘Nikhil’. Years later, when he finds out at high school that the writer Gogol was a frustrated, lonely, sexually inactive man, he changes his legal name back to Nikhil. His father gifts him a copy of ‘The Overcoat’ for his graduation, and there are many instances where he almost tells Gogol the real reason for his naming him after the author, but the words die on his lips. Finally, one day, just before Ashoke is due to leave for an academic position at Ohio for six months, he tells Gogol the reason.

Revealing more about the story would be unfair to the reader who hasn’t had a chance to watch the movie yet, and to the viewer who hasn’t read the book but would like to watch the movie anyway. Nair inserts a couple of fun scenes in the movie that are not in the book (Gogol and his wife Moushumi (Zuleikha Robinson) on their wedding night, where the Indian- American boy and the British-Indian Francophile girl do a parody of typical Bollywood movies, for example). The movie brought out all those emotions that a modern yet well-rooted, educated young person of today would feel – empathy for all the characters, sadness, joy (I laughed out loud twice and wept a few crappy tears, yes, where applicable!!), but more than anything I’ll tell you what ‘The Namesake’ left me with – the almost-definite, almost-palpable knowledge that no matter what, I wouldn’t want to live in a country that is not my own, for the entire length of my life – maybe a few years, to ‘travel, see the world – you won’t regret it’ (as they say in the movie), but not forever.

Interesting facts: Jhumpa Lahiri actually has scenes in the movie, and Sahira Nair, who plays Ashoke and Ashima’s reel-life daughter Sonia, is Mira Nair’s real-life daughter.

Movement, expression, randomness - dance

"You have to love dancing to stick to it. It gives you nothing back, no manuscripts to store away, no paintings to show on walls and maybe hang in museums, no poems to be printed and sold, nothing but that single fleeting moment when you feel alive. It is not for unsteady souls."
Merce Cunningham

Dance need not be co-ordinated, beautiful, or set to music. It can be random, powerful – almost theatre, and exist with music which does not necessarily lend much to the dance itself. This is what Merce Cunningham believes, and it is what I saw at a performance by students of the Merce Cunningham Dance Company last Saturday. It was a dance in nine pieces, and none of them was related to any of the others. It was not dance in the usual sense of the word – not a classical art form like we are used to seeing in India, like Bharatanatyam, Kathakali, Kathak, Kuchipudi, or Mohiniattam, nor was it typical western choreography like that in Broadway plays. Merce Cunningham’s dance form is very influenced by Dadaism and the Zen philosophy, and as is quoted on his website, he is ‘not interested in telling stories or exploring psychological relationships: the subject matter of his dances is the dance itself’ – the viewer is free to interpret the dance however he or she wants. The dance would look random to the untrained eye, but there was a definite intention in every movement. That was part of the craziness of it all, and the beauty.

Art with a dash of history - The Salmagundi Art Club

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 Gotham City, of course, provides the setting for a very famous comic book – no prizes for guessing which!!!

Weirdness!!!

I got this from the Elf's blog - how weird are YOU?????!!!!

You Are 40% Weird

Normal enough to know that you're weird... But too damn weird to do anything about it!

How Weird Are You?

Thoughts on Rushdie's STC

The first time I tried reading Salman Rushdie, I was still in school and I couldn’t get past the first few pages. The book was ‘Midnight’s Children’. I just finished my second attempt, and I’m glad to say I made it through the entire book. This time it was ‘Shalimar the Clown’, and though the first few pages were not as engaging as I would have liked it to be, by the time I reached the middle, I was engrossed.

Writing novels is truly an art – in my opinion, if it does not have a generous dose of creativity, you might as well be reading the paper - and Rushdie moves between modern politics and history with the ease and gracefulness of a tiger hunting its prey in the open fields of Africa. He lays bare the basic human emotions of love and hatred with words that are so lyrical and evocative, you can visualize them as he writes. I especially liked that his characters are well-etched – though each character has shades of grey, clearly, the sympathy of the reader is meant for one person only – Shalimar the Clown – and that person does get it. That is another rather difficult goal to achieve when you set about writing a novel, I would imagine. If your characters are not well fleshed-out, you lose track somewhere along the way and then the end is never exactly what you imagined it would be. Some would call that part of the beauty of writing as well. Perhaps, but I feel that though the writer is free to express himself however he or she wants, in a story, you have to be clear about your characters – you have to convey your thoughts in a way that the reader is not left wondering about the direction you are trying to take him or her in. Many writers make that mistake, but Rushdie did not get caught in that trap in 'Shalimar The Clown'.

I don’t want this to be a book report, so I’m not elaborating on the storyline (I don’t like the people who give out the ending of the movie or book before you’ve had a chance to watch or read it yourself!!), but it should suffice to say that with names as interesting as Shalimar, Kashmira, Boonyi and Maximilian, the story lived up to its characters. A story with a Mary or John could be boring, after all, but with names like these? He didn’t have a choice!

Grand Central Terminal

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!

Impressions of Frankfurt Airport

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!

TMNT!!!

......also known as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles :-) I caught a glimpse of them on TV this morning and couldn't help but remember the days when they were all the rage when I was a kid. Following the adventures of Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael and Michaelangelo, accompanied by the svelte April O'Neil of course, was so much fun back then. I've watched most of their cartoons and all their movies, and usually it was with a whole group of kids of the same age so it was always a communal thing. Ha ha.

Kids, I tell you!

Seen on NDTV's We The People yesterday....

So I did a bit of TV-watching yesterday. I have a colleague who doesn't even own a TV and professes he never has and never wants to (plays video-games in his spare-time on his laptop though, ha ha), but sometimes, when I see some programmes that I find myself actually getting involved in, I don't know if that is such a good thing. Information dissemination is part of the reason for a TV being invented, right?!!

On a more serious note, I wanted to blog about some thoughts I got after watching NDTV's 'We The People' yesterday. Barkha Dutt was discussing the role of media in covering high-profile criminal cases today, with reference to cases like those of Priyadarshini Mattoo, Nitish Katara and Jessica Lall, with a group of people including Vinod Mehta-Editor of Outlook magazine, Nalini Singh-Journalist, KTS Tulsi-Senior Supreme Court Advocate, with Sabrina Lall (Jessica Lall's sister) and Neelam Katara (Nitish Katara's mother) also in the audience.

I think there is a difference between reporting news, and journalism as it exists today. Mere reporting of facts would be news, but most forms of media today, whether it is newspapers, magazines or television have a viewpoint about the news, or in other words, what happens. That's not necessarily a bad thing. I don't think it would be necessary for more than a few newspapers, at the most, to exist if it was just a matter of letting the public know about what happens around the world. The reason the media plays an important role, especially in a volatile political atmosphere such as the one we live in today, is that they provide an OPINION about what is going on. And everyone is entitled to an opinion, which may or may not be right according to you and me. But what is important, I believe, is to hear these opinions. Because that is the only way we will understand different perspectives on a subject, get to know more facts about it and be able to collate all of it to form our own opinion of what is going on.

If anyone argues that it is NOT the role of the media to take up the case of people like Jessica Lall et al, because everyone has the right to a fair trial and by throwing the limelight on the accused in a case they are creating a negative image and a bias against the accused in the minds of the public and even the judiciary, perhaps they would like to think about what Sabrina Lall mentioned yesterday - that indubitably, Manu Sharma, the key accused in the Jessica Lall case, 'deserves a fair trial, and that he deserves the right to get Ram Jethmalani as his counsel, but where is it a 'fair' trial when justice is being subverted at every step, and witnesses bought?' If the trial was fair in the first place, then, in my own opinion, that group of people wouldn't even have been there on TV yesterday - justice would have been dispensed long ago and the case would have been closed. And as far as the judiciary is concerned, if they make up their minds to convict people based on what they see and hear in the media, then they shouldn't be there in the first place.

One important thing that the Indian judicial system lacks today, that is key to the existence of a non-partisan, fair trial, is the existence of a strong Witness Protection Programme. That is exactly what is responsible for witnesses in these key cases either turning hostile or refusing to co-operate in the first place. Mr.Tulsi brought out this very salient point and I think it is something the Indian legal system needs to work on with immediate effect, because it is the only way we can ensure that justice is served to ordinary citizens of India like Jessica, Nitish, Priyadarshini, and IIT graduates Manjunath Shanmugam and Satyendra Dubey.

Seen on Discovery Travel and Living yesterday....

"The important thing in a marriage is to separate the big things from the small things, deal with the big things and let the small things fall by the wayside."

Waterboarding

Roshan, I'm taking the cue from your extremely courageous classmate (how did he put himself through that?) and am letting people who read my blog know what waterboarding is all about.

According to the Geneva Conventions, waterboarding is a form of torture used in interrogations, but according to a 2002 memorandum from the US Attorney General, it's not. In an interview with the Guardian last week, Dick Cheney even referred to its usage in the war against terror as 'a no-brainer'. You see this for yourself and decide.



And by the way, I couldn't bring myself to sit through the whole thing.

Sleepless nights..

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?

A wedding blessing

Now you will feel no rain
For each of you will be shelter to the other
Now you will feel no cold
For each of you will be warmth to the other
Now there is no more loneliness for you.
Now there is no more loneliness.
Now you are two persons but the life ahead of you is one
Go now to your dwelling place
And enter your days of togetherness
And may your days be good and long upon this earth.

- Apache wedding blessing

Congratulations on your wedding, SublimePattern.
May your days be good and long upon this earth too :-)

I TOTALLY know this feeling - too!

I'm not a grad student but at this exact minute, this is how I feel anyway.

Link via Ash.

Case Closed : The Victory Of Justice

The Priyadarshini Mattoo case was one instance where the loopholes in the Indian justice system were brought to the public eye. The gory incident took place in 1996, ten years ago. Today, the Delhi High Court convicted Santosh Kumar Singh, son of a former IPS officer for the crimes he committed.

I used to think then that there was no hope for a country where who you knew mattered more than who you were. That may still be the case, and not just in India but other countries as well - but today, I am honestly glad that I stand corrected, at least in this case.

One thing that I couldn't help but notice : The sentence is to be prescribed 'after Diwali vacation'. I only hope that decision doesn't change.

I just wrote to say....

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.

Of words.

Hyperventilation

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.

Kiran Desai's 'The Inheritance of Loss' wins the 2006 Man Booker Prize

Two things that I didn't know about this year's Booker Prize winner:

Kiran Desai is the youngest woman ever to win the prize, at 35.

Her mother Anita Desai has been shortlisted three times since 1980, but never won.

Read the press release here. The book sounds intriguing. Must get my hands on a copy soon.

Anonymity, obscurity and the importance of being a blogger

In a piece called ‘Bye Bye Blogger’, the New York Times interviews Lee Siegel, whose blog for The New Republic met with an unhappy ending after he was found to deceive readers by commenting anonymously on his own blog, shooting direct daggers at his enemies and basically telling everyone, in so many words, that he was God’s gift to the blogosphere. A couple of comments Siegel made about bloggers made me think of my own experience in the field of blogging so far:

Q: (…)don’t you think it’s intellectually lame to express one’s opinions
anonymously?

A: I do indeed. Everyone seems to be fleeing from the
responsibilities that come from being who you are. I think that is why the
blogosphere is thriving. It allows people to develop a fantasy self.

Some things I’d like to say in response to this: It is true that I don’t use my real name to blog, just like many others who write witty, entertaining, and/or personal blogs (a few of whom are on my list to the right of this page) but I am certainly not using the blogosphere to create a fantasy self, or alter-ego. I suppose I started out wanting to be anonymous, yes, because I thought (quite naively) that it would give me the freedom to write about things that may be controversial, or even boring (seriously, at that point I did not want to be blogging with the expectation of writing purely about my political views, for example, not that that is necessarily what people would have expected of me) and I would have been able to defend my viewpoints without having to wade through the baggage that others may have had of who I am through their interactions with me in the real world. But that, of course, is no longer true because most of the people I know who read this blog, are actually people I know in real life as well so my Master Plan turned out to be a damp squib :-) Why have I not yet revealed who I am then, you may ask? I guess now it’s just a matter of having got used to being Wanderstruck. And besides, it’s a free world, right?!

And he also says this:

Q: Anonymous bloggers are also saddled with obscurity, which I doubt you would
similarly glorify.
A: That’s right. In their case, anonymity is obscurity’s
rash. At least for those who practice incessant character assassination, which
represents a good portion of the blogosphere, they vent out of the pain of being
unacknowledged.

My thoughts: I know there are people who do leave character-assassinating anonymous comments, but I am not one of those. And as far as anonymous people being obscure is concerned, I’m OK with being obscure to the larger blogging world. Doesn’t bother me in the least! And besides, I may become famous yet!

If dessert be the soul of life, eat on!

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!

I Rock..and Blogger Beta does too!

I am completely software-programming illiterate. I swear. And yet I was able to carry out some PRETTY funky changes to my blog design, as those of you who are reading this have figured out!

It's the little things in life that make me happy. I am not as clueless as I thought! :-)

Pictures from Portland

6:32 PM in Bangalore

This picture was taken ten minutes ago. It's the view from my office window. They say I have one of the best seats in office :-)

All Hail the Tag!

I almost could not believe my eyes when I read this, but Penny Lane, girl, you rock! Just when I was beginning to doubt if more than two people ever read this blog, I have truly and honestly been given my first ever tag! OK so the deal is that I have to write 8 things about myself. I sort of did this (I wrote way more than 8 then!) in an earlier post a few months ago, but in the true spirit of tagging, I’ll do it afresh. (I’m SO excited!) So here goes:

1. I am extremely jet-lagged right now. I believe that the body can only take so much of time-zone-skipping at a time, and I think I’ve been pushing that more than I ought to in the last one year. But I’ve had a blast traveling – I just love traveling – and I guess I always will.
2. I am getting married four days before I turn 26, in a few months’ time. And I am way excited about that too (its increasing day by day), because I am going to FINALLY be with the one person I have ever wanted to, and in the bargain my parents are finally going to get their wish, and my grandparents too, and so everyone will be happy.
3. Really, REALLY, people, if you ever think of getting into a long-distance relationship then let me know because after close to five years of never being in the same city and STILL surviving mine, I think I’m something of a pro at it. No kidding!
4. I will probably never ever be reed-thin even though I desperately try to at least twice a year. I just love yummy food and have a weakness for desserts in particular. Even simple food like good ol’ curd-rice and pickle can make me sigh with happiness (especially if its polished off after a good night of partying)
5. Drinking is never fun without friends. On the same note, drinking can be quite uncomfortable with relatives. Ha-ha. Make sure you distinguish between the two. If a relative IS a friend or vice-versa, then that is one hell of a lucky situation. How does this piece of advice relate to me? Because I have drunk without friends so many times I know that the ‘it’ factor is always missing from those experiences. And I have also had a couple of very uncomfortable drinks with relatives.
6. I used to wear glasses with ugly plastic pink frames in classes 4 and 5. And then I wore slightly better looking pink metal frames in classes 6 and 7. And now I hate the colour pink. Period. Most shades of it, anyway. I do wear cool-looking blue frames now though, when I don’t wear my contact lens that is. I think that I think they’re cool now because V thinks I look nice in them. So I guess beauty in this case lies in the eyes of the beholder!
7. I did well in school and college without really having to try too hard, and teachers liked me big time. The funny thing is all that used to matter to me then, but now I couldn’t care less. Sometimes I think I’m angry at them for not giving me REAL education. I don’t remember shit of what I learnt between classes 8 to 12, for example. And I got State ranks!
8. I am a very moody person. I make no apologies about it, because to be honest, I don’t NEED to be liked by everyone, and I don’t like everyone either. It’s a bit impossible. If you liked everyone you ever met, there would be something wrong with you, if you ask me. I used to try and be one of those. They’re all wrong, because they’re trying too hard. (Can you believe someone once said that about me? In college. That I ‘tried too hard’. I used to think that was one of the most cruel things I heard about myself then. It was probably true. Its not anymore).

Penny, you’ve disabled comments but in case you’re reading this…happy belated birthday and may your house be full of all the furniture you ever wanted by your next birthday! (That includes the hep plasma TV and all that stuff that (ahem!) only homeowners really invest in!) And SublimePattern, Skepsi, Sharad, The Smugbug, Vikram and the Desi Bridget Jones Diary, I hereby tag you all!

The power of words

On the flight back to India, I watched one of those feel-good movies called ‘Akeelah and the Bee’ – for the second time. Due to some error, the airline played the same movie on the flight to Portland as well. I didn’t have a complaint though. The story of a tenacious African-American eleven-year-old from Los Angeles in her quest to win the Scripps National Spelling Bee in Washington D.C, it reminded me of my own days as a Spelling Bee contestant when I was in high school. Watching the movie throw up words I am unfamiliar with even today, at the quarter-century of my life – prestidigitation, argillaceous, ratatouille for example – it reminded me that education is not a means to an end but a journey in itself. I had no coach when I went (and won!) my Spelling Bee, and I still recall a conversation with a friend who asked me what I was doing to learn so many long and difficult words. My answer: nothing. It was the accumulated knowledge gleaned through years of reading, something I am indebted to my parents to, for inculcating in me.

The quote where Akeelah’s coach encourages her to believe in herself when she is besieged with self-doubt and lack of confidence, which I found out just today is taken from Marianne Williamson’s ‘A Return to Love’, is something that I would like to put up here just for everyone to read, let filter through their minds, and chew on. I only wish I had read it earlier. It’s taken me years to gain the strength that these words instill with just one reading.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are
powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves,
Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small doesn't serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking
So that other people will not feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine, as children do.
We were born to make manifest
the glory of God that is within us.
It's not in just some of us;
It's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
We unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.
As we're liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.

A little bit of air on earth...

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!

Is work worship?

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.

But life, as they say, will go on.

Poppin and popout :-)

Just thought I'd dust some of the cobwebs off this blog o' mine.

I didn't know till last week that a cousin of mine reads this blog (probably 'used' to read, thanks to the inactivity). I had no clue till then, and I wasn't quite sure whether I should panic or not. (Did I reveal any extremely secret secrets on my blog? Uhmm..Ahmm...AAAAAA!!!!!). No, I'm OK. Nothing scandalous. Boring, huh?

I'm in a good mood today, though I have the prospect of staying late at work staring me in the face. Still, it doesn't matter. Oh, and I HAVE to insert a couple of these here because I think they are such fun (link via Penny Lane's blog) :



Au revoir for now, folks!

Go figure!

Last weekend, for the first time in my life, I saw a condom-vending machine in a public place in India.

Where, do I hear you ask?

In the ladies' toilet of Rex Theatre, Bangalore, which is one of the oldest in the city!

Either they are more forward than the multiplexes, or I've just been walking around with my eyes closed.

Go figure!

The Great Indian Wedding

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.

I'm afraid I can't come out to get your order ... I'm 150 miles away

I was in the US last month and went to a McDonald’s drive-in one day to get lunch. It’s quite interesting the way a voice booms out of this box, you rattle off your order, then proceed to the next window to pay and collect your order, all in the span of less than 5 minutes. In 5 minutes, it’s all done and dusted, your hunger satisfied.

I thought of that day again when I read this. I think they’re now taking technology a bit too far – literally. We’ve all heard of business process outsourcing (a.k.a call centres), but McDonald’s is now ‘outsourcing’ exactly what I spoke about above – the ordering of fast-food! Read The Long Distance Journey of a Fast Food Order. Time travel won’t be too far away. Mark my words!

Fireflies Festival of Sacred Music

I haven’t blogged in a while – so hello all of you out there who still bother to check this blog. I’ve been keeping myself busy with work and travel. Most recently, I went here. The Fireflies Festival of Sacred Music in the outskirts of Bangalore last weekend, was an experience that I suppose many people have had the good fortune to experience, possibly multiple times, but I was a first-timer there and boy was I glad I went. There is something about sitting in an amphitheatre watching performances under a banyan tree in the middle of almost-nowhere that is soul-breaking and soul-making at the same time. Soul-breaking because it made me feel that I’d been wasting a lot of my life so far, and soul-making because some of it was music that I’d never heard before – and I’m talking jazz, Sufi, Hindustani classical, alternative soul, indo-western fusion, instrumental (and what instruments – drum beats that are primordial, tribal, whatever you’d like to call it, the flute that sounded like it was singing your song, trumpets, the sax, harmonicas – instruments that I don’t hear on a day-to-day basis that sounded so strong, real and melodious I wished I knew how to play them all).

If you’re slightly high (on whatever, let’s not elaborate now), then so much the better!