There are times when everything enrages me.
It's a slow, bubbling rage. For I'm usually not the type to blow my top, to let out a stream of invectives till hell freezes over.
On second thoughts, the latter is inaccurate. But I never blow my top.
Scream, throw stuff, say things I don't mean.
No.
When I'm angry, I let the fury build within me. I do not respond, I silently mouth curses, yet I do not destroy the peace and well being of people around me. I let the hot, indignant rage build in me, while I cry or listen to metal or simply do nothing, simmering with rage all the while.
Some people say that I sulk during those times.
Perhaps.
And I shall continue to sulk till I can't contain my anger anymore. And then, I shall burst out, the accumulated fury of years, months, days. A time I'd lose control over my senses, say things I don't mean, be a person I normally am not.
But till then, if that ever should happen, I'll plough on, trying to forgive, trying to forget. My anger is latent, perhaps it shall never rise as long as I live. But my anger is something I'm not proud of. Maybe with time, I'd shed it a bit by bit and learn to, as they say, love no matter what.
Showing posts with label Personal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Personal. Show all posts
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
What you should eat before you turn 65 - I
Food has been my passion since a very young age. Blessed with a patient nature and a generally understanding appetite, I daresay I've ventured out quite a bit, as far as my vegetarian taste buds would take me. While I'm not a fabulous cook or anything - I can whip up a really good pasta or a paneer manchurian, but that's about it - this love for food has survived through the onslaught of mess food, the horrors of Basera 'food' and everything else life at IIT has in store for me.
But then, there are certain dishes which make me go weak in the knees that I'd eat them even if served in a black mug and an orange for accompaniment. So this is my food guide, cutting through kitchens throughout India, my own Top 10 guide on what you should eat before you turn 65. Not that I have anything against 65 year olds, but some things should never be put off till age catches us and wrecks us apart.
10.Pazham Pori/ Ethakka Appam
The first time I tasted this Kerala delicacy was at Saarang Village, 2011. Not that I had much of an option, the only delectable vegetarian options on the menu was this, and an utterly forgettable tea. I remember wondering then why the obligatory chutney or tomato sauce was missing till I took a bite…and discovered that it was sweet! Yet, the Nendranka bajji quite grows on you and I should know, I must have polished off atleast six plates that Saarang. The slightly fermented taste of the banana flirts with the taste buds and the very crispy coat disintegrates at the touch, making it a very satisfying culinary experience. It is hard to believe that something as amazing as this could come out of a land which also brought out Avial.
9. Akki Roti with Chutney
Oh Akki Roti, the stuff of my dreams, the breakfast fit for kings! Thou might look very unassuming to the benighted eye, who’d merely laugh at thee and move on to the more seductive benne masala dosa, only to end up with an unshackled bowel! Oh, Akki Roti, forgive me for not having discovered thy wonders earlier!
I stayed with my mother’s friend the last time I visited Bangalore. A wonderful, discerning woman, she was also the best possible cook I could discover in Bangalore. Every morning, I’d wake up to different Karnataka style rotis, one day ragi, another day, jowar, and maybe even bajra. And they were all super crisp, super addictive and super healthy.
The star of the show, however was the humble Akki Roti, the staple breakfast option for many Kannadigas. This dish made of rice and a very deft hand, topped with coconut or tomato chutney is super nutritious and very very tasty. Give me my akki roti over Raghavendra masala dosa anytime!
8. Onion Sambhar with Rice
Onion Sambhar is a staple luxury at every TamBrahm household – you’d know it’ll make its appearance every three weeks when the mother has run out of things to make, yet, its visits are sporadic enough to be alluring to the senses. I’m a Rasam person and sambhars don’t really excite me, neither do vathakozhambu, kozhambu and that miserable liquid called morkozhambu. But onion sambhar makes me sit up everytime it makes its rounds, and with rice and liberal doses of ghee, this Sunday lunch would leave you burping of tamarind and very very satisfied.
7. Khandvi and Dhokla
There are two things you ought to do if you do happen to go to Gujarat – shop and eat, and if you miss out on any one, you ought to be shaken up and packed off in the next train to the Kathiawar Peninsula. While all the Gujarati food sends me in rapturous delights and every time I make a trip to Ahmedabad, I return three kgs fatter and three times happier, there are some which are my especial favourite. The pretty Khandvi, made of gram flour and curd tops the list, followed by Dhokla, also made of gram, I think. It’s hard not to fall in love with these two, especially if they’re backed up with Green chutney, or my favourite, Imli chutney.
It’s been a long time since I had Khandvi anyway. When I was a eight or nine years old, there was a wonderful Gujarati restaurant called Bhavai in Chennai, which made the best Khandvis I could ever imagine. I used to be a very fussy eater as a child and all I’d have at that restaurant was their super soft khandvi decked with mustard which you could count off the tip of your tongue, and chaas. I think that restaurant’s closed now, I’m not sure and perhaps I need to wait it out till Ahmedabad calls me again.
6. Gobi Manchurian
My eighth standard was a decisive year, for I fell in love with both Abhishek Bachchan and Gobi Manchurian. It’s been five years since then and the love’s still there, but the priorities have changed. There’s Ranbir Kapoor now, Abhay Deol, the very alluring Imran Khan and so many more. And similarly I discovered Doodhi Halwa, Cheesecake, Paneer tikka and many more, thus relegating The Gobi Manchurian to a docile 6th spot.
Gobi Manchurian is a very tricky dish and can be scarring, if badly made. I have braved through many Gobi Manchurians, the salty Bangalore version, the undercooked, nauseating Tifany’s version, the tomato-sauce-can-salvage-me-after-all Adyar Anand Bhavan version…so much so, the original Gobi Manchurian, if it exists seems to have disappeared into the recesses of good cooking. Yet this Indo Chinese dish is a particular favourite of mine, and like narthanga, drier, the better.
And these are the five food items I'd want to eat, if marooned in an island with Johnny Depp for company etc etc. What did you eat today? :)
But then, there are certain dishes which make me go weak in the knees that I'd eat them even if served in a black mug and an orange for accompaniment. So this is my food guide, cutting through kitchens throughout India, my own Top 10 guide on what you should eat before you turn 65. Not that I have anything against 65 year olds, but some things should never be put off till age catches us and wrecks us apart.
10.Pazham Pori/ Ethakka Appam
The first time I tasted this Kerala delicacy was at Saarang Village, 2011. Not that I had much of an option, the only delectable vegetarian options on the menu was this, and an utterly forgettable tea. I remember wondering then why the obligatory chutney or tomato sauce was missing till I took a bite…and discovered that it was sweet! Yet, the Nendranka bajji quite grows on you and I should know, I must have polished off atleast six plates that Saarang. The slightly fermented taste of the banana flirts with the taste buds and the very crispy coat disintegrates at the touch, making it a very satisfying culinary experience. It is hard to believe that something as amazing as this could come out of a land which also brought out Avial.
9. Akki Roti with Chutney
Oh Akki Roti, the stuff of my dreams, the breakfast fit for kings! Thou might look very unassuming to the benighted eye, who’d merely laugh at thee and move on to the more seductive benne masala dosa, only to end up with an unshackled bowel! Oh, Akki Roti, forgive me for not having discovered thy wonders earlier!
I stayed with my mother’s friend the last time I visited Bangalore. A wonderful, discerning woman, she was also the best possible cook I could discover in Bangalore. Every morning, I’d wake up to different Karnataka style rotis, one day ragi, another day, jowar, and maybe even bajra. And they were all super crisp, super addictive and super healthy.
The star of the show, however was the humble Akki Roti, the staple breakfast option for many Kannadigas. This dish made of rice and a very deft hand, topped with coconut or tomato chutney is super nutritious and very very tasty. Give me my akki roti over Raghavendra masala dosa anytime!
8. Onion Sambhar with Rice
Onion Sambhar is a staple luxury at every TamBrahm household – you’d know it’ll make its appearance every three weeks when the mother has run out of things to make, yet, its visits are sporadic enough to be alluring to the senses. I’m a Rasam person and sambhars don’t really excite me, neither do vathakozhambu, kozhambu and that miserable liquid called morkozhambu. But onion sambhar makes me sit up everytime it makes its rounds, and with rice and liberal doses of ghee, this Sunday lunch would leave you burping of tamarind and very very satisfied.
7. Khandvi and Dhokla
There are two things you ought to do if you do happen to go to Gujarat – shop and eat, and if you miss out on any one, you ought to be shaken up and packed off in the next train to the Kathiawar Peninsula. While all the Gujarati food sends me in rapturous delights and every time I make a trip to Ahmedabad, I return three kgs fatter and three times happier, there are some which are my especial favourite. The pretty Khandvi, made of gram flour and curd tops the list, followed by Dhokla, also made of gram, I think. It’s hard not to fall in love with these two, especially if they’re backed up with Green chutney, or my favourite, Imli chutney.
It’s been a long time since I had Khandvi anyway. When I was a eight or nine years old, there was a wonderful Gujarati restaurant called Bhavai in Chennai, which made the best Khandvis I could ever imagine. I used to be a very fussy eater as a child and all I’d have at that restaurant was their super soft khandvi decked with mustard which you could count off the tip of your tongue, and chaas. I think that restaurant’s closed now, I’m not sure and perhaps I need to wait it out till Ahmedabad calls me again.
6. Gobi Manchurian
My eighth standard was a decisive year, for I fell in love with both Abhishek Bachchan and Gobi Manchurian. It’s been five years since then and the love’s still there, but the priorities have changed. There’s Ranbir Kapoor now, Abhay Deol, the very alluring Imran Khan and so many more. And similarly I discovered Doodhi Halwa, Cheesecake, Paneer tikka and many more, thus relegating The Gobi Manchurian to a docile 6th spot.
Gobi Manchurian is a very tricky dish and can be scarring, if badly made. I have braved through many Gobi Manchurians, the salty Bangalore version, the undercooked, nauseating Tifany’s version, the tomato-sauce-can-salvage-me-after-all Adyar Anand Bhavan version…so much so, the original Gobi Manchurian, if it exists seems to have disappeared into the recesses of good cooking. Yet this Indo Chinese dish is a particular favourite of mine, and like narthanga, drier, the better.
And these are the five food items I'd want to eat, if marooned in an island with Johnny Depp for company etc etc. What did you eat today? :)
Sunday, May 22, 2011
The moon cake and the white jet of light
It was a cool dark night in April and two friends were sitting on the Humanities and Social Science block rooftop.
The HSB rooftop is possibly one of the best places in IIT. Unlike Tiffanys, it offers no food and unlike Gurunath, it offers no entertainment. Yet, it is alluring in its own special way, even though it’s just a big, dangerous terrace, and I say dangerous for it has no parapets. At night, there aren’t any lights on the terrace, save the moonlight and if one were to take a casual stroll across its perimeter admiring the night sky, one would land up in the institute hospital.
Nevertheless, it is a wonderful place, which you can never quite leave once in. Such haunts are few and far between in IIT.
On this particular Monday night at eight PM, two friends were dangling their legs and enjoying the sweet breeze blowing from nowhere, perhaps caused by the combustion of certain members of the plant species. They gazed at the sky, looked around the dark terrace in delight, felt like the conquerors of the world, till one powered her laptop and suggested that they study Aristotle, for they had a HS3214 Aspects of Western Philosophy endsem on Wednesday and they had loads of slides to do.
One, however, was an armchair rebel. ‘Why must we do this?’ she enquired. ‘Why must we mug something as dreary and as ridiculous as Kantsian agnosticism? What is philosophy afterall and why am I made to study it? Philosophy and I exist on different planes of existence. We aren’t made for each other. There’s no love lost between me and philosophy. Why must I mug something which goes above my head?”
The other sagelike friend made no response. She opened the powerpoint presentation. ‘Aristotle’s theory of causation’, she read out. ‘Formal, Material, Efficient and Final.’
And thus she continued for another twenty minutes or so, as the night breeze swept across their faces. It was very still, in that quagmire of a terrace. It was truly, the best place to be in IIT.
‘Thirty slides over’ she announced after a while. ‘Only twenty three more to go.’
But the other wasn’t paying attention. ‘Look!’ she said, pointing at sky. ‘Look at the moon!’
And she turned around and looked. A jet of white light swished through the full moon which looked like a particularly delectable cheesecake. It was initially a tangent to the circular moon and then slowly began to submerge the moon. It was like a jet of milk was drowning the moon. It was like, as the foodie among the two later declared, vanilla icing on a cheese cake.
The two friends stared open mouthed at this astonishing spectacle. The white jet of light seemed to grow bigger and bigger in size and one friend tried to capture the wonder with her cell phone camera.
The other one laughed. ‘You needn’t have bothered’ she said. ‘It would look very ordinary in the picture. And perhaps there isn’t anything extraordinary about it. It’s just the white smoke of a jet plane passing over the moon.’
But still, the two friends continued to gaze at the peculiarly long spectacle. The terrace was still, like it was waiting for something miraculous to happen. It was like they weren’t at the centre of the IIT, but far far away from civilization, if there is any difference between the two.
And then, slowly and gradually, one friend sitting on the HSB terrace, realized that in reality, she knew nothing about the person sitting next to her, staring dreamily at the moon. ‘I know her name’, she thought, ‘her age, bloody hell, she is my best friend and yet I really don’t know her. Why is she sitting so silently?’, she wondered, ‘What is she thinking? What am I doing in this dark cold, God forsaken place with this person who I know absolutely nothing about and I never shall, no matter how long it takes? Who am I anyway? It is so dark here that all I can see is my long nose. Can I thus conclude that only my nose exists? I can anyway quite effectively convince myself that my intestines are merely a figment of my imagination, so perhaps I really don’t exist. What sort of a place is this and what the hell am I doing here?’
‘What would happen if I scream?’ she wondered. ‘Yes, she’d be shocked, it’d be unexpected. But no one else would hear me. Or perhaps they would. Perhaps someone would emerge out of the dark shadows and accuse me of ruining the silence of the night. They might ask me what I’m doing here, at this time, with a laptop and a scream. And then I’d have nothing to say.’
‘Why am I thinking all this?’ she wondered ‘Why doesn’t she say a word, why does she sit like a mute rock, watching the sky? Are thoughts buzzing through her head, like mine? But she isn’t anything like me. She’s calm, composed, an enigma. She is rational, thinks before doing anything and is very emotionally stable. Completely unlike the emotional, impulsive, hysterical me. What would it be like, to be her, just a day?’
And then slowly and gradually, the white vapour began to diffuse into the night sky till nothing was left, save the moon. In a few minutes, the clouds cleared and the night sky was the same well loved picture as the world knew it.
The other friend turned around and smiled, her eyes crinkling like they always did. ‘Shall we start on slide 31?’ she asked. ‘Only 23 more to go.’
Thus the two friends continued to dissect Nichomachean ethics as the night flew by. Two days later, they were asked to write on the Aristotelian Theory of Causation, for seven and a half marks. Neither of them wrote about the moon cake and the white jet of light.
The HSB rooftop is possibly one of the best places in IIT. Unlike Tiffanys, it offers no food and unlike Gurunath, it offers no entertainment. Yet, it is alluring in its own special way, even though it’s just a big, dangerous terrace, and I say dangerous for it has no parapets. At night, there aren’t any lights on the terrace, save the moonlight and if one were to take a casual stroll across its perimeter admiring the night sky, one would land up in the institute hospital.
Nevertheless, it is a wonderful place, which you can never quite leave once in. Such haunts are few and far between in IIT.
On this particular Monday night at eight PM, two friends were dangling their legs and enjoying the sweet breeze blowing from nowhere, perhaps caused by the combustion of certain members of the plant species. They gazed at the sky, looked around the dark terrace in delight, felt like the conquerors of the world, till one powered her laptop and suggested that they study Aristotle, for they had a HS3214 Aspects of Western Philosophy endsem on Wednesday and they had loads of slides to do.
One, however, was an armchair rebel. ‘Why must we do this?’ she enquired. ‘Why must we mug something as dreary and as ridiculous as Kantsian agnosticism? What is philosophy afterall and why am I made to study it? Philosophy and I exist on different planes of existence. We aren’t made for each other. There’s no love lost between me and philosophy. Why must I mug something which goes above my head?”
The other sagelike friend made no response. She opened the powerpoint presentation. ‘Aristotle’s theory of causation’, she read out. ‘Formal, Material, Efficient and Final.’
And thus she continued for another twenty minutes or so, as the night breeze swept across their faces. It was very still, in that quagmire of a terrace. It was truly, the best place to be in IIT.
‘Thirty slides over’ she announced after a while. ‘Only twenty three more to go.’
But the other wasn’t paying attention. ‘Look!’ she said, pointing at sky. ‘Look at the moon!’
And she turned around and looked. A jet of white light swished through the full moon which looked like a particularly delectable cheesecake. It was initially a tangent to the circular moon and then slowly began to submerge the moon. It was like a jet of milk was drowning the moon. It was like, as the foodie among the two later declared, vanilla icing on a cheese cake.
The two friends stared open mouthed at this astonishing spectacle. The white jet of light seemed to grow bigger and bigger in size and one friend tried to capture the wonder with her cell phone camera.
The other one laughed. ‘You needn’t have bothered’ she said. ‘It would look very ordinary in the picture. And perhaps there isn’t anything extraordinary about it. It’s just the white smoke of a jet plane passing over the moon.’
But still, the two friends continued to gaze at the peculiarly long spectacle. The terrace was still, like it was waiting for something miraculous to happen. It was like they weren’t at the centre of the IIT, but far far away from civilization, if there is any difference between the two.
And then, slowly and gradually, one friend sitting on the HSB terrace, realized that in reality, she knew nothing about the person sitting next to her, staring dreamily at the moon. ‘I know her name’, she thought, ‘her age, bloody hell, she is my best friend and yet I really don’t know her. Why is she sitting so silently?’, she wondered, ‘What is she thinking? What am I doing in this dark cold, God forsaken place with this person who I know absolutely nothing about and I never shall, no matter how long it takes? Who am I anyway? It is so dark here that all I can see is my long nose. Can I thus conclude that only my nose exists? I can anyway quite effectively convince myself that my intestines are merely a figment of my imagination, so perhaps I really don’t exist. What sort of a place is this and what the hell am I doing here?’
‘What would happen if I scream?’ she wondered. ‘Yes, she’d be shocked, it’d be unexpected. But no one else would hear me. Or perhaps they would. Perhaps someone would emerge out of the dark shadows and accuse me of ruining the silence of the night. They might ask me what I’m doing here, at this time, with a laptop and a scream. And then I’d have nothing to say.’
‘Why am I thinking all this?’ she wondered ‘Why doesn’t she say a word, why does she sit like a mute rock, watching the sky? Are thoughts buzzing through her head, like mine? But she isn’t anything like me. She’s calm, composed, an enigma. She is rational, thinks before doing anything and is very emotionally stable. Completely unlike the emotional, impulsive, hysterical me. What would it be like, to be her, just a day?’
And then slowly and gradually, the white vapour began to diffuse into the night sky till nothing was left, save the moon. In a few minutes, the clouds cleared and the night sky was the same well loved picture as the world knew it.
The other friend turned around and smiled, her eyes crinkling like they always did. ‘Shall we start on slide 31?’ she asked. ‘Only 23 more to go.’
Thus the two friends continued to dissect Nichomachean ethics as the night flew by. Two days later, they were asked to write on the Aristotelian Theory of Causation, for seven and a half marks. Neither of them wrote about the moon cake and the white jet of light.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
What's on my mind
(a) Coffee. Cliches apart, I never really have coffee during the week and when I come home, all I crave for is coffee. Not good. Not good at all!
(b) The very beautifully written Of Human Bondage which I have read a hundred and fifty pages or so. I have to return this book soon. One more book to my Flipkart wishlist.
(c) My slowly growing Flipkart wishlist. Amidst many others are Lolita, The History of Sexuality, Ulysses and the French Lieutenant's Woman. Maybe one day I shall spend less money on icecream and buy them. Till then, I dream... :)
(d) Movies. There was a phase I went through when I just couldn't sit through three hours of a movie which annoyed my mom very much. But now I seem to be enjoying them more, and yesterday's 7 Khoon Maaf was simply delightful.
(e) This complex labyrinth of emotions and mood swings I'm experiencing right now. Maybe I'm just going through a rough patch -sigh-. And if not for some very special people, I'd have metamorphosised into a gigantic ball of stress by now.
(f) Academic work. Piles of work.
(g) Questions which randomly keep bouncing off my head like - Who am I? What am I good at? Why am I this way? Refer (e) for more
(h) Can life exist without Facebook?
(i) Gurunath. A friend of mine and I go there almost EVERY SINGLE DAY and I still don't know why. I just love going there, a je ne sais quoi I can't quite fathom.
(j) I love saying 'Gurunath'. The 'th' at the tip of my tongue sounds very conclusive and the resounding 'na' lingers even after I say 'Gurunath'. Gurunnaatth. Photocopies at Gurunaatth.
(k) That watch I still haven't bought.
(l) Planners. I have FAR too many planners and post it notes and the like, being this compulsive obsessive planning freak. I think I need to go to Stationery Rehab
(m) And oh yes, the Cricket Match yesterday :D I think I might be in love with Dhoni! :)
(n) Why I never ever publish a post without editing it again a few seconds later.
And a lot lot lot more on my mind which are probably entangled at some sub-conscious level which will probably emerge later in the night when I'm fast asleep.
(b) The very beautifully written Of Human Bondage which I have read a hundred and fifty pages or so. I have to return this book soon. One more book to my Flipkart wishlist.
(c) My slowly growing Flipkart wishlist. Amidst many others are Lolita, The History of Sexuality, Ulysses and the French Lieutenant's Woman. Maybe one day I shall spend less money on icecream and buy them. Till then, I dream... :)
(d) Movies. There was a phase I went through when I just couldn't sit through three hours of a movie which annoyed my mom very much. But now I seem to be enjoying them more, and yesterday's 7 Khoon Maaf was simply delightful.
(e) This complex labyrinth of emotions and mood swings I'm experiencing right now. Maybe I'm just going through a rough patch -sigh-. And if not for some very special people, I'd have metamorphosised into a gigantic ball of stress by now.
(f) Academic work. Piles of work.
(g) Questions which randomly keep bouncing off my head like - Who am I? What am I good at? Why am I this way? Refer (e) for more
(h) Can life exist without Facebook?
(i) Gurunath. A friend of mine and I go there almost EVERY SINGLE DAY and I still don't know why. I just love going there, a je ne sais quoi I can't quite fathom.
(j) I love saying 'Gurunath'. The 'th' at the tip of my tongue sounds very conclusive and the resounding 'na' lingers even after I say 'Gurunath'. Gurunnaatth. Photocopies at Gurunaatth.
(k) That watch I still haven't bought.
(l) Planners. I have FAR too many planners and post it notes and the like, being this compulsive obsessive planning freak. I think I need to go to Stationery Rehab
(m) And oh yes, the Cricket Match yesterday :D I think I might be in love with Dhoni! :)
(n) Why I never ever publish a post without editing it again a few seconds later.
And a lot lot lot more on my mind which are probably entangled at some sub-conscious level which will probably emerge later in the night when I'm fast asleep.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
The Responsibility Mug
On my disorganised table in my hostel room sits a fat Responsibility Mug.
This Responsibility Mug was a birthday gift from my parents on my 12th (?) birthday. It is from Archies, I think and it has the word 'Responsibility' scrawled on it, with the Four Signs Of A Responsible Person written all over.
By virtue of being A Very Big Mug, it contains everything you could possibly imagine, pencils, earrings, eraser bits, passport sized photographs, an ugly heart shaped keychain, pens which ran out of ink and a black permanent marker, among the easily discernible items.
It is a Very Dirty Mug too, for it is emptied and cleaned out precisely twice a year, a process which takes exactly a minute and a half and the clutter in it is replaced meticulously, for well It May Prove Useful One Day.
One day, I shall set the Mug at a very prominent location and read its inscriptions with utmost diligence. Till then, it shall continue to slowly gather dust in the corner of my table.
This Responsibility Mug was a birthday gift from my parents on my 12th (?) birthday. It is from Archies, I think and it has the word 'Responsibility' scrawled on it, with the Four Signs Of A Responsible Person written all over.
By virtue of being A Very Big Mug, it contains everything you could possibly imagine, pencils, earrings, eraser bits, passport sized photographs, an ugly heart shaped keychain, pens which ran out of ink and a black permanent marker, among the easily discernible items.
It is a Very Dirty Mug too, for it is emptied and cleaned out precisely twice a year, a process which takes exactly a minute and a half and the clutter in it is replaced meticulously, for well It May Prove Useful One Day.
One day, I shall set the Mug at a very prominent location and read its inscriptions with utmost diligence. Till then, it shall continue to slowly gather dust in the corner of my table.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Heating up
Summer is back in Chennai, where it rightfully belongs.
I had to trudge out in the sweltering midday sun today. I'm still feeling cranky. Maybe this is a wonderful opportunity for me to actually drink three litres of water a day and feel all detoxified and not like a bloated rhinoceros.
Maybe this time I would get huge branded sunglasses and teeny sun dresses and paint my face with sunscreen and eat garden fresh salad and drink cucumber rich water.
Or maybe I will just sit at home, scowl at everyone and eat copious amounts of blueberry icecream.
I had to trudge out in the sweltering midday sun today. I'm still feeling cranky. Maybe this is a wonderful opportunity for me to actually drink three litres of water a day and feel all detoxified and not like a bloated rhinoceros.
Maybe this time I would get huge branded sunglasses and teeny sun dresses and paint my face with sunscreen and eat garden fresh salad and drink cucumber rich water.
Or maybe I will just sit at home, scowl at everyone and eat copious amounts of blueberry icecream.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Morning blues
Every morning,I wake up at 5, refreshed and ready to take on the world.
Every morning,I wake up to the denim shorts and jogging shoes I lay out so meticulously the previous night.Today,we shall go jogging,I promise myself.We will exercise furiously and become so fit and positively glow with health, as we creep out of Sharavati in stealth.
Nothing stops me,I'm good to go.The music I want to listen to,the splendid morning breeze,the empty roads I can visualise,which smell oh-so-heavenly of thyme and camphor, or some such smell which I can't identify. The familiar route, State Bank of India,Kendriya Vidyalaya,Delhi Avenue,Bose-Einstein Guest house,Led Zeppelin, Nirvana,System of a Down.When the world sleeps,I rule the roads.
Excitement makes my teeth rattle.The prospect of five classes at a stretch during the day doesn't deter me.I imagine the oxygenated blood pumping within me,from the aorta to the arteries and all the glorious calories dying a slow death. This is just too good to be true!
And then I did the unthinkable.My eyes fell on two people sleeping peacefully in another corner of my 4X4 room.Two faces which radiated absolute bliss.Two pairs of legs and two pairs of hands well tucked into two blankets. I can feel my bare arms freezing.An adrenaline rush,possibly.
I sighed and crawled back into bed, my head just too glad to hit the pillow. At once,I experienced bliss,like a million bells were ringing in my head and like I was floating on the clouds,like I could smell hot melting chocolate and other such experiences you would be all too familiar with if you harbour shamelessly maudlin fantasies.For afterall,I had two more hours to sleep.
Every morning,I wake up to the denim shorts and jogging shoes I lay out so meticulously the previous night.Today,we shall go jogging,I promise myself.We will exercise furiously and become so fit and positively glow with health, as we creep out of Sharavati in stealth.
Nothing stops me,I'm good to go.The music I want to listen to,the splendid morning breeze,the empty roads I can visualise,which smell oh-so-heavenly of thyme and camphor, or some such smell which I can't identify. The familiar route, State Bank of India,Kendriya Vidyalaya,Delhi Avenue,Bose-Einstein Guest house,Led Zeppelin, Nirvana,System of a Down.When the world sleeps,I rule the roads.
Excitement makes my teeth rattle.The prospect of five classes at a stretch during the day doesn't deter me.I imagine the oxygenated blood pumping within me,from the aorta to the arteries and all the glorious calories dying a slow death. This is just too good to be true!
And then I did the unthinkable.My eyes fell on two people sleeping peacefully in another corner of my 4X4 room.Two faces which radiated absolute bliss.Two pairs of legs and two pairs of hands well tucked into two blankets. I can feel my bare arms freezing.An adrenaline rush,possibly.
I sighed and crawled back into bed, my head just too glad to hit the pillow. At once,I experienced bliss,like a million bells were ringing in my head and like I was floating on the clouds,like I could smell hot melting chocolate and other such experiences you would be all too familiar with if you harbour shamelessly maudlin fantasies.For afterall,I had two more hours to sleep.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Two timer.
Vaishali Prasad is a twice-a-year miracle. Her last post was on January 21st 2010 and her next post is on December 2nd 2011, no 2010. Yay her.
Vaishali Prasad also wonders if she should launch into a heart-wrenching story- about how she struggled against her inner psyche to post something here and how she ultimately emerged victorious after defeating that laziness which so defines her- in a way that would make you click your tongues and wrench your face in an attempt to squeeze out a tear or two. But she can't be bothered.
When Vaishali Prasad last updated something here , she was a much harassed , frantic class 12 commerce student with weird hair. Now , she is pleased to inform you that she is a much harassed , frantic first year Humanities student at IIT-Madras with weird hair. Yes , she passed her Board exams despite sleeping nineteen hours a day during February and March and somehow gate crashed into IIT despite sleeping twenty three hours a day during April and May. She is happy to inform you that now however , she can easily stay up the whole night and sleep during the day.
Vaishali Prasad has the whole of December off and being the earnest optimist that she is , vows to improve her literary , culinary and aesthetic tastes during this period. However you know her better and so I'd implore that you don't laugh at her , when at the end of her holidays , all she improves is her weight and her ability to sleep longer and better.
And , after living in a hostel for four months , she can now sleep with the lights on.
Vaishali Prasad also wonders if she should launch into a heart-wrenching story- about how she struggled against her inner psyche to post something here and how she ultimately emerged victorious after defeating that laziness which so defines her- in a way that would make you click your tongues and wrench your face in an attempt to squeeze out a tear or two. But she can't be bothered.
When Vaishali Prasad last updated something here , she was a much harassed , frantic class 12 commerce student with weird hair. Now , she is pleased to inform you that she is a much harassed , frantic first year Humanities student at IIT-Madras with weird hair. Yes , she passed her Board exams despite sleeping nineteen hours a day during February and March and somehow gate crashed into IIT despite sleeping twenty three hours a day during April and May. She is happy to inform you that now however , she can easily stay up the whole night and sleep during the day.
Vaishali Prasad has the whole of December off and being the earnest optimist that she is , vows to improve her literary , culinary and aesthetic tastes during this period. However you know her better and so I'd implore that you don't laugh at her , when at the end of her holidays , all she improves is her weight and her ability to sleep longer and better.
And , after living in a hostel for four months , she can now sleep with the lights on.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Back.
It's been four months and a new year since my last post , and so I'm back , armed with a broom to dust away the cobwebs lurking at the corners of my blog. As I tighten the scarf around my face and flex my non existent muscles with greater vigour , I hope I'll never let a thin layer of brown powder outline this unattended blog again. But then , I keep making promises , keep making resolutions and keep hoping till I lose count of all the things I wish for or dream about...so maybe one day , when I'm 80 and I've lost more teeth than I (or the tooth fairy) can keep track of, they'd all come true. And it'll matter no more.
I'd love to begin this post with a very promising opener like "I've been listening to a lot of John Mayer recently" or "I've been reading a lot of Vikram Seth recently". But the truth is , all I've been doing recently is study for my board exams and study even more , and since Fayol's Principles of Management hardly make interesting blogging , I shall not even try.
As you might have guessed , I am feeling very morbid and gloomy. (I know they mean the same thing , but I simply cannot conclude a sentence without using two adjectives in it.) I dont know why , I just do. There's so much I gotta do , so much I want , dream , no , crave for , that I don't just know when they'll start happening. I just feel like I'm in a dark dark smelly tunnel groping my way through , images of all that I want flashing through. Sigh. I hope the ground would break open and I am transported to the world under. I could start a new life there.
And worst , worst , the feelings of inadequacy. The feeling of will that ever happen to me? why havent I got it before? why , how , why...?...questions filling my head like a hot , angry , ceaseless fire. Threatening to burst out in all royal glory.
Sometimes I wish I could just run away. To a green green meadow where birds chirp and I can feel the sun's pleasant warmth on my skin. Where a waterfall roars nearbly , but the roar is muffled by the peace and happiness surrounding me. Where I can lie on the soft green grass , look up the clear blue sky and say , there's nothing I need to worry about. There's no negativity clouding my mind , no doubts , no comparisions , no unhappiness. Just me , the birds , the cows and the water. But well , I'm stuck in my room , my claustrophobic mind threatening to eat me up.
Sigh. Maybe I just need to bide my time. Wait and wait in patience , wait without hoping , wait without dreading. And I will. Wait...
I'd love to begin this post with a very promising opener like "I've been listening to a lot of John Mayer recently" or "I've been reading a lot of Vikram Seth recently". But the truth is , all I've been doing recently is study for my board exams and study even more , and since Fayol's Principles of Management hardly make interesting blogging , I shall not even try.
As you might have guessed , I am feeling very morbid and gloomy. (I know they mean the same thing , but I simply cannot conclude a sentence without using two adjectives in it.) I dont know why , I just do. There's so much I gotta do , so much I want , dream , no , crave for , that I don't just know when they'll start happening. I just feel like I'm in a dark dark smelly tunnel groping my way through , images of all that I want flashing through. Sigh. I hope the ground would break open and I am transported to the world under. I could start a new life there.
And worst , worst , the feelings of inadequacy. The feeling of will that ever happen to me? why havent I got it before? why , how , why...?...questions filling my head like a hot , angry , ceaseless fire. Threatening to burst out in all royal glory.
Sometimes I wish I could just run away. To a green green meadow where birds chirp and I can feel the sun's pleasant warmth on my skin. Where a waterfall roars nearbly , but the roar is muffled by the peace and happiness surrounding me. Where I can lie on the soft green grass , look up the clear blue sky and say , there's nothing I need to worry about. There's no negativity clouding my mind , no doubts , no comparisions , no unhappiness. Just me , the birds , the cows and the water. But well , I'm stuck in my room , my claustrophobic mind threatening to eat me up.
Sigh. Maybe I just need to bide my time. Wait and wait in patience , wait without hoping , wait without dreading. And I will. Wait...
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Words , Speech and Joie De Vivre
I don't know what's come over me lately , for people are correcting my pronounciation all the time.
By the way. It's ProNUNciation. Not Pronounciation. (Courtesy one very enlightened friend). So if you were Del-yu-ded like me all this while , then get it right. And turn your nose up in air while you're at it.
With all due respect to all those Who Can Pronounce Words And Phrases As They Ought To Be Pronounced , I can't speak as I ought to. Fine? Fine. So don't correct the next word I say. I'm not impressed and I certainly am offended!
Actually I'm not. I am far too thick skinned to get really really offended. But it makes me In-dig-nunt! You irreparable braggarts!
And it's even more distressing when someone corrects my *French* proNUNciation. I am no um , mademoiselle French , but then , French is a very weird language! How on earth am I supposed to know how to pronounce something which should not be pronounced the way it reads! After all , what meets the eye...what I see is what you get! Right? No , you're wrong!
So I flem-bOy-antly proclaim that I have lost my joie de vivre (or have I) exactly as how you would read it now , mister and this another Excellent French Speaking Friend of mine cuttingly points out that it is Chihua hua hua. Or Wah Wah Wah. What nonsense!
Personally I feel that the only way one can master The Art Of Speaking French The Way The True French Man With His Nose High Up In The Air Does is to imagine that's you are puking. So every word , put that extra emphasis , mentally cOn-jyure the image of you Ree-gur-gi-gayting each word out and hey presto! You master French within no time! So basically Joie De Vivre should sound like , well , Bwah Bwah Bwah. More emotion , the better. The French are very passionate , you know :)
PS - No offence to the Frenchmen out there and those with perfect diction. No , I'm not jealous. I promise xD
PS 2 - Joie De Vivre is actually pronounced as Zhwer Dey Vevre. I *think*. You never know though.
PS 3 - All the spelling errors are completely intentional :)
By the way. It's ProNUNciation. Not Pronounciation. (Courtesy one very enlightened friend). So if you were Del-yu-ded like me all this while , then get it right. And turn your nose up in air while you're at it.
With all due respect to all those Who Can Pronounce Words And Phrases As They Ought To Be Pronounced , I can't speak as I ought to. Fine? Fine. So don't correct the next word I say. I'm not impressed and I certainly am offended!
Actually I'm not. I am far too thick skinned to get really really offended. But it makes me In-dig-nunt! You irreparable braggarts!
And it's even more distressing when someone corrects my *French* proNUNciation. I am no um , mademoiselle French , but then , French is a very weird language! How on earth am I supposed to know how to pronounce something which should not be pronounced the way it reads! After all , what meets the eye...what I see is what you get! Right? No , you're wrong!
So I flem-bOy-antly proclaim that I have lost my joie de vivre (or have I) exactly as how you would read it now , mister and this another Excellent French Speaking Friend of mine cuttingly points out that it is Chihua hua hua. Or Wah Wah Wah. What nonsense!
Personally I feel that the only way one can master The Art Of Speaking French The Way The True French Man With His Nose High Up In The Air Does is to imagine that's you are puking. So every word , put that extra emphasis , mentally cOn-jyure the image of you Ree-gur-gi-gayting each word out and hey presto! You master French within no time! So basically Joie De Vivre should sound like , well , Bwah Bwah Bwah. More emotion , the better. The French are very passionate , you know :)
PS - No offence to the Frenchmen out there and those with perfect diction. No , I'm not jealous. I promise xD
PS 2 - Joie De Vivre is actually pronounced as Zhwer Dey Vevre. I *think*. You never know though.
PS 3 - All the spelling errors are completely intentional :)
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
One Book At A Time
I have made a new resolution and that is to finish every book I read , before moving on to the next one.
I know it sound silly , but I then realised that I have far too many books which are half read or even worse , meant to be half read , which means that I bought them from Landmark with utmost enthusiasm , came back home , read the blurb , put the book in a safe place to read in peace later on , and then promptly forgot to (read - motorcycle diaries) (yes , yes , pun intended :P )
So , my resolution is this. Basically , I start a book , I finish it. One at a time. All in good time. No sticking your finger in too many pies , Vaishali. (PS - I rock at that) (PS 2- Is it "Sticking your finger in too many pies or into many pies"?) (PS 3 - No , I do not mean the computer game :P )
So what better time is there to begin a new idea than now and I decided to start off with (I need applause here...) My Experiments with truth. By Gandhi. And then , The Hungry Tide. By Amitav Ghosh. And then Three Men in a Boat. And then...I haven't decided.
So anyway , I have finished My Experiments with Truth , all four hundred pages of it , and now have started with The Hungry Tide. And I'm itching to quit it and get back to Roald Dahl (Kiss Kiss , Switch Bitch...) , but no.. One Book At A Time!
And I hope to finish Motorcyle Diaries soon!
PS - The Movie (Diaros en Motorcycleta something :|) is a must watch! But you'd need subtitles. :)
I know it sound silly , but I then realised that I have far too many books which are half read or even worse , meant to be half read , which means that I bought them from Landmark with utmost enthusiasm , came back home , read the blurb , put the book in a safe place to read in peace later on , and then promptly forgot to (read - motorcycle diaries) (yes , yes , pun intended :P )
So , my resolution is this. Basically , I start a book , I finish it. One at a time. All in good time. No sticking your finger in too many pies , Vaishali. (PS - I rock at that) (PS 2- Is it "Sticking your finger in too many pies or into many pies"?) (PS 3 - No , I do not mean the computer game :P )
So what better time is there to begin a new idea than now and I decided to start off with (I need applause here...) My Experiments with truth. By Gandhi. And then , The Hungry Tide. By Amitav Ghosh. And then Three Men in a Boat. And then...I haven't decided.
So anyway , I have finished My Experiments with Truth , all four hundred pages of it , and now have started with The Hungry Tide. And I'm itching to quit it and get back to Roald Dahl (Kiss Kiss , Switch Bitch...) , but no.. One Book At A Time!
And I hope to finish Motorcyle Diaries soon!
PS - The Movie (Diaros en Motorcycleta something :|) is a must watch! But you'd need subtitles. :)
Monday, April 6, 2009
Sun signs and the human personality...
I believe in Zodiac Signs a lot. Linda Goodman, Rick Levine (http://www.tarot.com/about-us/bios/levine/), Bejan Daruwalla...
Linda Goodman , especially. I'm one of those who invest in every single book by Linda Goodman, or spend hours poring over them in the Astrology section of Landmark. Sun Signs , star signs, relationship, compatibilities...it's all about the sun and the stars for me... :)
Much to the chagrin of some of my friends who believe it's all hogwash, or an all too convenient set of words to describe a person. The major arguments I've heard, is that it's general. It isn't always true. Why, I'm a Leo and I'm supposed to be vibrant and talkative, but I'm not! I'm quiet, shy and I hate being the centre of attention! How would you explain that?
I wouldn't. I agree that sun signs aren't always accurate and horoscopes can never map your future the way it will be, but I do believe in sun signs. For it has worked for me, in analysing people. Probably , accepting people as they are. And I believe that if you allow for a little bit of deviation, sun signs could work for you. You needn't necessarily swear by them, but maybe if you don't disregard them, you could be exposed to a lot more insights into a person's character than you can ever imagine. Or maybe , you could just be imagining either ways :) But that's what I believe in , and you needn't necessarily subscribe to it.. :)
My personal favourites include Cancer , Virgo , Pisces , Libra , Capricorn , Taurus (:D) and Scorpio. But I have friends of (almost) all sun signs and I find something interesting about each friend which probably corresponds to his/her sun sign. Like one's creative and stubborn..she's the Aquarius. Another one is a Cancer , moody , secretive and possessive. Yet another is a little too obsessed with discipline , a Virgo for sure. The jealous , possessive , the altogether intense Scorpio. The centre of attention , never short of words Leo. And the indecisive ,friendly Libra. (I haven't figured out the noun forms yet , as you can see. English grammar has never been my strong point!)
Maybe I'm just generalising. I do not claim to know all about astrology, if anything, I'm an amateur; but I believe that there's some element of truth in it. Sometimes , maybe a little too obvious , sometimes not. And again , it depends on what time the person was born , the position of the planets and all that. Astrology is a complicated science , mathematics even (pun intended!).
Another science which interests me is Tarot. I'm planning to get myself a Tarot book and try to learn something about it. Let's see how it turns out!
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