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Monday, 22 October 2007

bas bhai kabira mere dost!

the good, the bad and the indifferent pass by us and we respond to each one of them uniquely. There is a Sanskrit saying that in order to become a doctor you need to kill a hundred patients. the itch to find and disperse has caught me in a mood to gossip. this is dedicated to a genre of friends with whom most of us would have dealt with some point or the other. they are but a big-time tongue troubler. they might make us puke out something which u wud otherwise in your sane self keep to ourselves. they are contagious. they are a phenomenon. it is natural to find these people edgy as they would not for god sake shut up at any occasion. we can thank them for the different roles they play in our lives, even if that is not what they intend to do. like you can take hints from them all them all the time and inspire ourselves to behave in a much desired manner that they fail to. or we can always remember a situation where they messed up and remind ourselves to keep off similar crisis. no wonder it is said that a good friend is a fine teacher. again, even if they dont intend to. sometimes by looking around you can learn much more than what the best universities in the world claim may offer. the only flip side to this association is that most of the time u feel miserable and sorry for being caught in their clutches... so badly that even if u want to crawl out u wont b spared. they will sense you with their inner eye even when you are invisible. they can flash glimpses of an agony aunty to a chirpy teen loafer to health freak to fad fashionista to any other category of being that inspires their mood. thing under the sun...she will have an opinion to spill...which she makes sure gets heard no matter what. if people ignore her she will break into fits of laughter or hum a tune that can distract and attract as much attention as she seeks. i hav a wild thought for my dear friend...i really wish good luck to her psychiatrist and her family who is still bearing with the witch in her. i love being with her for just one reason that she reminds me what all one should not say... and do while engaged ina conversation. thanks my frnd... kabira tu dost hoke aisa sacha roop dikhata hai ki aisa aine mein dekhne se mooh mukarta hai. wah! wah!

Saturday, 18 August 2007


i was just thinking about the various questions one has to deal in a life time. they are just too many to mention. just too many to think. ponder or respond... if it were not those dreadful questions that one has to answer, we would not have been what we are. sometimes i wish if someone did not ask that question which is not so comfortable to answer. sometimes questions are very direct and unwarranted. most of the time the quiz master knows the answer or at least the many options one can pick from. but then he still chose to ask. just for fun. he cant but ask. he is such a jerk. just to satisfy his little right to ask. even when he knows we do not want to be asked, he will ask, as he is your friend, relative or family. if you don't answer these questions you become one of those ugly arrogant villain or vamp in the family, office, among the friends. and if you answer you will just be reminding yourself of a few things you want to run away from. but is running away a solution? but who says answering is any solution? do we need to answer anyone and everyone we know, love and care about? i don't think so. but it depends. we are firstly and finally only answerable to ourselves. have i done all my duties to the best of my capacities? am i a responsible human being? even if i am not i don think i am answerable to anyone else but me the first person. how do we counter an uncomfortable question? it is not simple. first of all it depends on who is asking. and second of all it depends what he/she wants to hear. if i know who is asking, i can perhaps say what he wants to hear. but many a times it is not possible to guess what the quiz master's intention is . sometimes harmless questions can find deeper answers and expose things that one would rather keep than tell. it is but questions that get the doctor find his way through appropriate cure. questions that solve a case. questions that enlighten our need to know more. questions that keep life rolling. questions that tell us what holds beneath. questions, that yell out the truth of life. questions, that ask the meaning of deeds. questions are the answers to what most of us seek. if we ask the right question we get nirvana. and it is the search for the right question that keeps our quest to seek to learn to grow alive. i love to ask questions. that which my teachers dreaded when i would not stop asking. that which my mother had a tough time answering. now i love to ask them mostly to myself. to check what i am doing. to introspect. to hear myself loud and clear. to know whether i am on the right track. i hate to ask questions that will never get a response. its the saddest truth of rejection. it hurts. so i shy and keep off things that have the potential of the same. i feel cowardly but then that is the truth of life. someone can prompt you to ask a question. in an impulse you might ask as well. but once you do, you cant take your words back. there is mostly no solution to the damage done. this is called a foolishly brave impulse that will ring in the truth after a while, when time stands still and you hear the words that you must not have told. questions have such a lot in them. it is worth asking why we ask questions and cant do without them. if we cease to ask them perhaps we do not exist. only the dead can stop chasing life. life is all about newer questions and answers. why do we greet 'how are you?' when we meet someone...cant we just wish 'hope you are fine?' instead. why do we believe in questions. cant we simply do without them? see i cant but ask that...somebody answer me...

Wednesday, 8 August 2007

Who is this ‘Sender : HHIE Survey’?

Since a few days I have been receiving this sms regularly on my mobile. It reads like this:

The income and expenditure survey will contribute to the stability of the society and help achieve prosperity for all. Sender : HHIE Survey.

That’s it. The message ends there every time, giving me no clue of what this is about.

I googled for HHIE survey and found 'Hyundai Heavy Industries Europe'. I knew it had to be something else. So used my head and expanded IE as probably 'income and expenditure'. I searched again, adding the word Dubai to it. No luck! Then I changed words and searched yet again. Kept searching for better luck.

Eureka! I finally got a hint. It was 'Household Income and Expenditure Survey' by the ministry of economy of UAE.

But why did this vague sms come to me? Was the ministry telling me in advance that it is going to knock my door and ask me questions to fill in the survey form!? Or did the ministry want to inform that they want every one to prosper? What is the purpose of the message? May be they were doing a dry run of their new deal with etisalat to educate the common UAE population on money matters and society. I guess not.

Was it an advertisement of the ministry of economy? Or was it actually an incomplete text...may be it had more to it. Like 'please cooperate and fill-up details at this particular form/table at this place...or available online please visit for more information...etc!? Or ’if you think you are finding it economically unviable to continue in this country…then please quit!’? I don’t think the sender definitely had that humour.

I was reminded of a memorable sms that I got a few years back, while I was using a Hutch connection in New Delhi. The message was: ‘Don’t miss me. I will be with Karan at 9:30pm on Star World’. Sender: Shah Rukh Khan. I knew it was ad for the popular TV show called ‘Koffee with Karan’. The ad agency had some humour and strategy that worked its way to such a casual announcement or reminder of the programme…even those who were not SRK fans did not cringe reading the message. It served some purpose. But HHIE Survey!?

Sometime back heard the good news of 20 per cent hike in salaries for all Dubai government employees. As I work in the private sector it was natural for me to sigh in envy. Perhaps this survey did take place and has resulted in the prosperity they promise via pay hike for the country’s favourite few…in the government sector. I am still thinking but yet to find any sense.

When I am less occupied, sometimes I go through my sms box and delete unwanted messages. And I chanced up this one again.

My thought ran wild yet again and I said there has to be something to it. I sent a reply message asking: ‘what does this mean?’. Instantly got a 'message sending failed' for the effort. May be the survey is as unreceptive as this. Hope the ministry of economy is not as inaccessible. Or is it? Does this survey mean anything to anyone? I wonder.

If the message was in Arabic, like the many we receive, I would have deleted it immediately and got rid of , as I don’t understand the language.

Heard of ghost in the machine...has the next generation ghost cranky and gone hi-tech!? And that too via etisalat? Creepy!

kudos brittas

i dont have enough words to appreciate malayalam newspaper deepika's chairman and 'the so called controversial businessman' pharis abubaker for his bold and brave approach and attitude in an entertaining interview in a malayalam channel last night. i confess that was the most entertaining of any interviews that i hav seen so far in my life and career as a journalist in any language...any channel.

sorry i am not pinarai's anybody. i hate politics and i hate the condition of i am more likely to anyway find some common sense to what pharis blurted out eloquently in in crisp n clear malayalam...u can now read the rest.

john brittas, a relatively new face in the malayalam news (if u google for him u will find just abt his current stint as the pro-cpi news channel called kairali's head...and nothing more...) i am not sure if the media was trying to grill pharis abubaker on a string of controversies that you would have a clear picture on. this interview came out to be v memorable.

it is with amazing confidence that pharis toppled the poor show of brittas who tried his level best to do a la rajdeep sardesai. i am glad atleast a few people are there who can catch hold of these mediocre media fellas who come with half knowledge and absolutely no common sense to ask questions. but i sometimes wonder whether it was all planned. may b not. i don want to think it was a frammed attempt and spoil my enthusiasm to lash out against the poor journalists of my times. i see them all the time...all around me...and hence am best placed to make a comment. and i am making it.

most of brittas' questions where quotes and those which he wanted to mouth had no substance. really this man who calls himself a journalist needs to go out and get himself checked.

one more striking thing about the interview was that it proved that there is no true journalism in kerala. gods own country is infested by inquisitive devils. they simply cant but scratch up something which is someone else's business. its not just a phenomenon with the people in the news...but people in kerala on an average. i feel terribly sorry for making such a frank and ruff understanding of an observation. but let me bail myself out by saying that 'experiance maketh a man' has it me!

thanks to pharis, he brings alive the faith that there are atleast a few malayalis who have the wits and the wisdom to attack such 'no show...all noise' elements who rattle around trying to beat their own trumpet.

brittas in my opinion is a no body...god knows what mamootty saw in him. i was surprised to see this man one fine morning on a new news channel that had a then popular malayalam movie like name and theme (remember: we the people / 4 the people...the like). brittas cant anchor in english for anything under the sun. even shekhar suman knew just an average spoken english but he is bright...he picked up a global accent which is more show man friendly. atleast he doesnt put me off.

brittas belongs to the average breed of men who wants some attention while digging up or being a part of some controversy and he thought being a journalist was a good idea! but nicely forgot that half knowledge is deadly! i would like to believe that brittas has lost 99% per cent of his image that he tried to cultivate as an intelligent media person.

thanks to pharis for putting brittas wr he belongs.

just because u head a channel doesnt make u good enough. was a delight to see the interview. the best entertaining programme on any any indian channel since a long time i must confess...eagerly waiting for more such episodes. for once i don feel bad about spending time watching a regional channel in the few minutes that i get to spare in a day on front of the idiot box.

kudos brittas.

Phalaak Phaneir

One of my British colleagues is quite worried about what the sedentary lifestyle has done to her in Dubai. She swears pinching her bulges that she can’t find anything that helps her get back to her good old leaner days. She is always cribbing that her stomach is not in good form, it is rock hard and that she feels bloated all the time.

Today morning she fished out a lunch-size can from her lunch bag and yelled out, "Look what I found, 'phalaak phaneir'...its absolutely wonderful...good for my tummy". She held up a can of Palak Paneer (spinach and cottage cheese in mild Indian spices). In the eureka mode of her new healthy find from the supermarket's ready-to-eat section, she recommended to all of us patting her now-happy stomach, “Phalak phaneir’ is good for you. Must try it”. Palak Paneer is a household dish at North Indian homes and is served with chapattis.

I was reminded of this popular in Hindi saying 'ghar ki murgi daal barabar'...which means home-made chicken is equivalent to boiled lentils. When I was a small kid my mother tried hard to make me eat this not so glamorous palak paneer - a green curry that made me chuckle. She would lure me saying that palak (spinach) will get me bright red eyes like the rabbit and pink lips like our Punjabi neighbour Ashima. She even said that I will get a golden mane like Barbie’s. I don’t know if my mother was successful in getting me eat palak paneer then, but when I grew up and was living and cooking all by myself, I developed a taste for palak paneer, simply because it was easy-to-cook and was healthy.

I cooked it once for my in-laws. My husband cannot stand anything green in general. When I serve him vegetarian, he bleats and reminds me he is not a goat. This is a common joke at our dinner table when he breaks into bleating at the sight of some salad or broccoli or anything green or leafy. So I make vegetarian stuff only occasionally as I can’t convince him with stories to get started on eating healthy. Stories do not work after an age and especially with men who have an option to have their own mummy's food.

Surprisingly after joining a fitness club, my husband is close to one of his British trainers, who I assume, must have given him a crash course on healthy names in the Indian menu. Last night he asked me, "Do you know to make phalak phanier?" Instead of blurting out that, "I have made it but you don’t like it anyway."...I said, "I will try and make it for you from the Sanjeeve Kapoor's Khana Khazana collection that you bought me to learn good chicken recipes." He was happy to know that I will try it out and we struck a deal on having it this weekend.

Perhaps it is the colonial hangover, or is it just the thought that healthy must not be tasty. May be it is the many snap shots of brown-bran breads, no-sugar, no salt, no oil thoughts that reminds of a slow ballet while the fried chicken makes an entertaining rock-and-roll entry. Or perhaps mummy's cooking is the best. Whether mummy believes in frying less and steaming more is not applicable anyway. I don’t know the exact answer to all this, but it is sad that palak paneer has to come to us as phalak phaneir to actually get its true value seen.

Wednesday, 1 August 2007

empty mind...

to get out of the 'nothing to do mode' one has to continuously keep working on something. till the mind and body sends the signal - its ok, now u can take a brk. go to sleep. this situation is applicable to housewives who spend a lot of time at home without company. and end up nagging their husbands when they come home. i feel the nag is not just there in housewives...but anyone who feels he/she is not doing something substantial at home/work. you can observe this housewife syndrome with many at work place. like say if someone is not been promoted for a long time, then he ends up feeling that he is not doing something substantial. he/she starts nagging...about the system, the work, the management. he also doesn acknowledge that there are other fellow colleagues who are doing the good work. what happens if u are the receiving end? like say this nag always finds a reason to pull you down. or say if u are somewhere associated with him/her in your workflow...he/she will try troubling u by sitting on the work for a much longer required time than what is required. so how do you counter one such frustrating situation!? simple turn your attention on something else. keep a time alarm which is far beyond the time that he/she requires to give you the stuff and surf the net and read some useful links. pick up the news paper. also, the most important thing is keep a tally on the update. make your own personal flow chart for every assignment...with time and date and people featured at every juncture. this will give not just an explanation to the boss if something goes wrong but also a quick look at the current status of your work any time u want to have a look glance than open the file again and again. how can u do this at home!? again, at home there needs no explanation given to its a lil more easy. you can catch-up on one cup board at a time to clean and re-organise and by the time u finish all cup boards say there are 8 cupboards in all. the first one will be 8 days old to get a quick minding. or may be then u can start with one window a day to clean. watch an oscar winning movie, not necessarily a language u understand...but with a sub-titles...this will help u widen ur mind-sphere to different culture and ways of life, thats a good thing to do in a spare time plus it is entertainment. read a best-seller. listen to a karoake music while u sing the lyrics urself. join an instrumental music class. make an online photo album. write a daily blog. do some beauty packs for skin and hair. bake up something unusual but a delicacy. buy some fresh flowers and decorate the rooms. relish a chocolate. watch oprah. watch dr phill show. watch bbc. write to the editors of various newspapers u read at home n online. fix that broken ear-ring. clean up the shoes and shoe rack. fix the dysfunctional the fallen hem, broken button. clean up and throw the old clothes from ur wardrobe. u may also spend reading about new products n the supermarket while u spend some time at the counters there. also some retail therapy is fine ...but of a different kind like get some health and wellness thing into the house. read about different investment opportunities in the country u live in. talk to successful people and get leads to get ur investment bag started. tabulate and monitor daily expenses for a ready reckoner on ur bank balance any day. the more u can keep ur self engaged in anything the better u can do the engagement. it applies to everything from gossip to good work.

ghost sms

a few days back i received this sms on my mobile: The income and expenditure survey will contribute to the stability of the society and help achieve prosperity for all. Sender : HHIE Survey.
thats it. the message ended there. i immediately googled for HHIE survey and found 'Hyundai Heavy Industries Europe'. i knew it had to be something else. so expanded IE as income expenditure + dubai. eureka! i found the answer. it was Household Income and expenditure survey by the ministry of economy of UAE.
but why did this vague sms come to me. was the ministry giving me hints that it is going to knock my door and ask me questions to fill in the survey form!? or did the ministry want to inform that they want every one to prosper. what is the purpose of the message? may be they were doing a dry run of their new deal with etisalat to educate the common UAE population on money matters and society. i guess not.
was it an ad of the ministry of economy? or was it actually an incomplete text...may be it had more to it. like please cooperate and fill in this particular form at this place...or available online please visit here...etc!?
A week after receiving this sms, i heard the good news of 20 per cent hike in salaries for all dubai government employees. as i work in the private sector i could only sigh in envy.
when i am less occupied sometimes i go through my sms box and delete unwanted messages. and hence i chanced up on it again. i sent a reply message: what does this mean?. i got a 'message sending failed' for the effort.
heard of ghost in the machine...has the ghost gone hi-tech!?

'i got caned for speaking in hindi'

i got caned for speaking in hind, quipped a friend in his acquired foreign accent that he picked up during his stint with a call centre in hyderabad. we had try it hard to not get caught, the call centre was very particular that the client should not make out that it was an indian who was talking to them, he added at another instance.

i am sure his parents sent him to an english medium to speak the language of the babus and thus get him upwardly mobilised in the indian society. tday english is more popular than it is one of the official languages that unite the sub-continent. in my school we had to pay one rupee per hindi word...thats how the management got a few unruly jat fellas mouth angreji.

my friend also observed that, "it is because we indians speak english so well that we could bring in all the bpo deals to our country even if china was offering their services for a much lower cost."

yeah! i agrees ...the only silver lining, i confessed.

Working homemakers

It is interesting to observe the two new general categories of grown-ups. Irrespective of man or is either a homemaker and the other is career oriented. And of course there is mixture of the two, but are rare to find at the first glance.

The write-up is also a response to this non-stop research on whether women are doing justice to their different unconventional role(s) ever since they stepped in and out of kitchens and office cabins. No, my findings do not have a feminist flair to it, as you will soon find that my observations are quite a delight to any general chauvinist male, unfortunately.

This is a true peek in to the not-so-professionally inclined women who are entangled in the soul draining monotonous web of job-home-kids-career-beauty-splurges-fads-fashion-gossip cycle...or in other words those who come to work as they have no other option along with those who come to office to get rid of those extra hours of boredom at home and some extra money in return. Most of them are plainly lucky to be there. There is also a last category of the other women who just donÕt care whether the world is going to the dogs or to the buffaloes. I donÕt really want to comment on the last category as I am jealous of them and hence can be biased while making note of what they are.

I have realised that the workingwomen and the homemakers are two most common syndromes found among women of my generation. Infact it might have been like that always.
There is an easy way to distinguish between these two at any work place. The meek, well-covered, smiling colleague of yours is generally the homemaker type and she refers to price-rise and her meagerly income as a part of her fate. Career oriented proto-type is the one who has humour but airs opinions calculating consequences, does not care much about the keen eared Judas (male and/or female) who is tuned to her words all the time, walks with the gait of a man, looks / or is equally lost in creating and re-creating newer strategies of work flow loudly or softly with senior or equi-profiled colleagues.

Actually it is funny, this observation also apply to men. again there are two striking genres among the working men Ñ the homemakers and the career oriented men. Homemaker men are those who seem meek, well-dressed and are the always-smiling type whom we chance up on every day. The career oriented men are generally the humorous ones who air opinions not bothering about consequences or cares a damn about the keen eared Judas (male and/or female), walks with that particular gait (which you would observe close to absolutely funny) and is lost in arguments on what is right for the company with someone senior to him, whom he believes is not good as himself. Homemakers among men are not necessarily the kitchen or broom-friendly ones but they are called so as it is their's and mostly their alone business to make it for their home. They comprise of the responsible family men who are breadwinners who rarely are game to take up a challenge that has the slightest potential of a back-fire. In other words, anything that might negatively effect the monthly bank statements is cleanly cut from their list of objectives.

Both men and women who belong to the career oriented category take risks all the time they get that itch (some justifiable and some not-so justifiable type of itches). They are either employed at responsible profiles or they donÕt exist at all one fine morning. They are like the phoenix Ñ they rise form the ashes, are bright, mostly elusive (mentally as well as) physically...and are found in mythological-like stories. It is seldom that we find one colleague addressing the other as the better one at work, irrespective of the male-female factor. But we do hear stories of 'thaaaat wonderful ex-worker who was such a talent to have around...but look at whaaat the management has done'.

The funny matter of fact is that we find the two not just all around us, falling over eachother all the time, but also within us at times. We tend to swing from one of these personalities to the other but by and large retain our original make. Everyone has a million stories to tell. The story keeps us and we keep the story going. Life is quite an event at office.

Sunday, 29 July 2007

Curiosity kills the teen

Published: July 30, 2007, 00:01
The Web is the answer to many a panacea. Earlier, knowledge was the privilege of the few in society who used it to their advantage.
They divided and ruled many regions across the globe by dividing people under different issues. Bill Gates, the true reformer of my age, got everyone spell equality by unleashing the three 'w's - world wide web.
But he got not just people across the world on to the screens, but also their kids.
But like too much of anything is not good, the internet is now a headache for many. Especially parents.
I am reminded of this article in the newspaper asking parents whether they knew if their computers are child- safe.
With children spending summer vacations staring at computer screens the question was how much of the information do they need. I would say all of it and more. But not many would agree with me.

Actually today there is no true teenager. It is a species of the lesser kids who are on the verge of extinction. I call them lesser kids because today those who do not have Net access are equivalent to those who didn't have access to schools some two decades back.
A few years later there will be no kid who can connect with the character played by chubby little Kevin Arnold (played by American child star Fred Savage) of the Wonder Years fame in Star Plus.
When I was a teenager there was no internet. My guide was some older cousins or classmates, like Nikita who knew everything under the sun, and would come to save me when I did not laugh but cringed at a particular joke with double meaning.
Today the teenager has shifted a little ahead into the milk teeth age. With the busty animated characters like Lara Croft driving the gamer instinct in my seven-year-old brother, what does one expect?
You won't believe after giving her a virtual kick he screams... "yeah I got her down... stupid sexy girl". It took me a while to decipher... the words from his not so clear pronunciation of the same.
The only way you can find an original teen as the word is described in the dictionary, among today's teens, is only if he/ she has less or no access to the Web.
I am reminded of a Times of India article which talks of a Mumbai teenager Shibu Nair, who wanted to know why plump girls in his class had "fat chests". And got no answer by googling for it.
Shibu's curiosity finally got him an ill repute among girls in the class, a temporary suspension term at school and a tight slap from his mother.
I don't say give it all to the kid. But tell the kid what he asks for. Make it comfortable for him to approach than let him wander away over the net.
Why would he steal the extra pocket money to go to that internet cafe two kilometres away from home escaping neighbours or other keen-eyed informers to know that silly little thing he didn't know before.

I am sorry to observe that it is unapproachable parental behaviour that gets the teenager go wild.
I agree with Dr Phil's observation that "a teenager has no blood in his veins but pure adrenaline" and that hence he/she needs special treatment/consideration to grow up as close to normal as possible in our close to abnormal society.
The bottom line is that what needs to be known must be known. Hints or dumb hints or dumber hints won't work any more with the curious kids having a lot more options today.
Let's acknowledge that the generation next is pacing up at Google's speed and he must match shoulders with other kids who know it all anyway.

Monday, 23 July 2007

bloge raho bollywood...good luck

u know what...its amazing to know that the bollywood actors have blogs to spell out what they feel abt anything...of all things its the best tool to get them heard for the several controversies that media brings to us everyday. again i am a lil biased here. like hairstyles and wardrobe the blogging idea too comes to them after hollywood big names adorned it. but its ok. a good idea is a good idea...dont hav to always invent the wheel to drive the lastest car rt!?

i would like to tell one thing abt bipasha basu and the like femme stars of the world. there r two types of audiences she has to keep in is the media-minded...who loves to hear all the sarcastic n juicy comments that media tells out...the other who wud criticise u for being famous...the kind who will tell u being a star is ur priority not our business and that "fame comes with a price" either ways ur fans / onlookers are divided...though u want to believe they are devoted to u or the world is full of good people. i think "a thing of beauty is a joy forever" thats wr u a good thing to look at. the people who look at u r not ur family...ur mom or dad to love u forever. so i think celebs should walk out of the bubble to feel the normalcy of life and b unperturbed by the many ways life and people get their wits to test. but i think if u wr a normal person u wud hav never been able to enjoy being a celeb. anyway good blogging attempt. welcome to the world of internet thinkers n writers. u will be read lady ;-)

tday i read john abraham, bipasha, amir khan...a blog each by each of them...among other stars listed by mid-day...who are regular bloggers.

to learn more abt celeb bloggers click here


gandhi and his grandson

who is gandhi and who the hell is his is worshipped all over the world for his peaceful revolution that freed india from the british raj while india was being ruled n ruined by foreigners for more than one and a half century of colonialism ...and his grandson...a-not-so-well known indian politician...his only claim to fame is being a parliamentarian and ofcourse being gandhi's grandson. i read this morning a toi news item on gandhi's grandson saying that mahatma gandhi wud hav stud for taliban!? i thought our frail lil man brought us freedom without picking up can he stand up for an osama anytime!!! rubbish!

the newspaper article said :

""Rajmohan Gandhi said that his grandfather would also have tried to organise "something dramatic", perhaps a mass fast, to show how unhappy most Muslims were that their religion was being linked to terrorism. ""

gandhi was himself a victim of a hindu harliner nathuram godse...from his life and death we know he never wanted religious controversies...he wud hav never stepped-in to solve issues between muslims...he infact let them hav their way when jinha asked for pakistan.

and the junior gandhi known for his 'india now' book on art, music and culinary delights of the country...has no right to hav made that statement to the national daily. he cud hav simply basked the media attention being another peaceful member in the gandhi blood-line... who likes art n music n a lil politics...and shud hav kept shut on current topics of global violence and islam extremism! ok...gandhi was his granddad. but gandhi is our bapu...father of the nation. how cud he draw a line between taliban and gandhi-ism. unbelievable. if gandhi wr alive we would have know it better. i really wonder why media pays attention to all this crap.

Friday, 20 July 2007

ek chidiya...anek chidiya

The classic from Films division:

Didi ye anek kya hota hai ?
Anek.... anek yani bahut saare....

suraj ek...
chanda ek.....
taare anek....

achcha to taroN ko anek bhi kehte hain ?????
nahi nahi !!

dekho phir se batati hooN
suraj ek...
chanda ek.....
taare anek....

ek gilhari, ....
ek aur gilhari......
ek ek ek karke ho gayee ab anek gilhariyaaN...
ek titali, anek titaliyaaN....
ek chidiya.. ek ek anek chidiyaaN......
anek chidiyoN ki kahani sunoge ....
haan sunao...

ek chidiya anek chidiya....
dana chugne baith gayee thi .....
chorus : didi humen bhi sunao.......
phir se suno...
ek chidiya, anek chidiyaN
dana chugne baith gayee thi .....

WahiN ek Syaadh ne jaal bichhaya tha...
Syaadh, Syaadh kya hota hai didi
Syaadh ... chidiya pakadne wala

to phir kya hua, usne chidiyoN ko pakad liya,...
unhe maar diya ......

Himmat se jo jute rahe to bada kaam bhi hove
bhaiya.. bada kaam bhi
hove bhaiya ...
1..2..3.. furrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Chaturrr cidiyaaN sayaani chidiyaaN,
miljul kar, jaal le kar...
Bhaagi chidiyaaN....

door ek gaaon mein chidiyon ke dost chuhe rahte the....
unhone unka jaal kaat diya.........

dekha ekta mein kitni shakti hai......
didi agar hum ek ho jaayen to kya koi bhi kaam kar
sakte hain
haan haan kyon nahi ...

to kya is ped ke aam bhi tod sakte hain ???
haan magar jugat lagani hogi ...

* *
* * * *

achchha ye jugat .... wah bada mazaa aayega....
hind desh ke niwasi sabhi jana ek hain, -2
rang-roop vesh-bhaasha chahe anek hain -2

--- repeat...
bela gulab juhi champa chameli..... -2
phool hain anek kintu mala phir ek hai ...-2
ek-anek-ek anek

suraj ek, chanda ek, taare anek,
ek gilhari , anek gilhariyaaN,
ek titli, anek titaliyaaN,
ek chidiyaa , anek chidiyaaN......
are bela gulab juhi champa chameli.. -2
phool hain anek kintu mala phir ek hain.....2



Sunday, 24 June 2007

cheeni kum

a good movie. refreshingly not over done the drama though i expected amitabh to do that. actually we like tabu so much that we r willing to overlook her flaws. anyway i liked the little kid not for her act but for the wise word she was asked to puke out at different occasions. i completely loved zohra sehgal...especially when she broke into 'kutub ka jaado chal gaya' a poetry inpromptu when her graying son got his love life as he manages to stretch back and touch the ashoka pillar...and like magic his life's puzzle is solved for good.

cheeni kum also reminds me of a friend in mumbai, who gifted me his two lhasapso puppies when i was leaving mumbai. he is a senior journalist... and a divorcee. and last week i heard this news that he has got married again. i am delighted life can begin anytime you want to let it begin. actually u can savour all the cheeni and more u long as u watch what u eat ;-)...especially after an age...we dont want to run out of insulin rt!?

Saturday, 23 June 2007

if sushi din smell

last week we threw a surprise bday lunch party for our manager. she loves cooking, so we gifted a le creseut cast iron wok and skillet set. and she loves sushi, so was it ordered. the sushi came last. we started with our garlic breads, after common concensus that they wr getting cold. then we filled our glasses with coke and still the main dish of the event had not arrived. all of us wr hungry as the pizzas smelled so good. pepperoni pizza was the star of all pizzas for a simple reason that there was just one of it there. "o had i known there would be more takers i would have ordered for more" squeaked a colleague whose favourite it was.

now there were two cakes. and all those who finished the pizzas wr all eyes at the dessert. the sushi had to come still. all of us took turns in ordering a pizzerian starter to those who wr waiting for suzhi. but in vain. their determination was stronger than ours.

aah! finaly it came. packed in curious big lunch boxes with chopsticks et all. all of them wr skilled chopstickers. so they managed to pull of the show well. BUT...the sushi as u know what it is. (In Japanese cuisine, sushi (??, sushi?) is a food made of vinegared rice combined with seafood. Most, but not all, fish used in sushi is un-cooked, but other ingredients may be cooked, smoked, blanched, sauteed, or marinated.

a slight whiff in the air when the boxes where opened...and...i travelled through the memory lane back in kurla station where fisherwomen sqabbled to get on to the train and sit down with their smelly baskets. thank god i had digged into my dessert long back. or else the kurla women would have started dancing and i would have fallen off on to the platform.

Sunday, 10 June 2007

gone with the wind

it din rain not even drizzle...thats how dubaiets paid attention to ghonu- the cyclone that hit oman and washed away 70...well we all live in irony but ghonu just reminded me how facts are actually stranger than fiction, once again. another man's tragedy is our news. and we are so damn sure we will never b in picture. arrogance rulz for ever. once or twice if we wr hit by a sad moment we feel grounded and touch ground for all and every reason...again as time heals the bruises we rise up and reach there where the bloated ego keeps us afloat. like my mom puts it..."we forget that we are only ashus (dustlings) and that everything we see or cherish are maya...those will go once their time expires, so nothing should or will grip us forever," she says so as she thinks she has crossed the age to b bedazzled by relashionships, love, fear and anger...and that all of us will graduate to the truth of life and the needless anxiety that keeps each of us doing what we do everyday. i wish i come closer to that logic she spells out. i am sure i will but tday i wonder and cant really come to terms with death, pain and stress. yesterday another v moving thing i saw on tv was in the oprah show where a lady had undergone 26 surgeries and was barely she was just not happy abt the way she looked. at the end of the episode which was dedicated on unveiling the obsession or addiction with perfcetion, oprah addresses america to wake up to the truth that they must look inside to feel what they actually r and not the mirrors. i wish bush was listening.

charity on sale

yes i received this amazing mail from our hr department where a raffle was thrown open for a one nt stay at 5star hotel and anyone cud enroll for the raffle by buying 1,2 or 3 tickets worth 30dhs. the money would go to a charity organisation supporting needy children and someone has voted to part with a complementary offer to stay at the 5star beach resort. "if i really want to do charity i wud do that," said a colleague..."ya instead of wanting to stay in a hotel and feel bad if my luck doesn shine bright on the raffle day," added another one. deepak will anyway get just friday so what is the point, so i too didn budge. so when charity is put up on sale our mind really is off from charity and are anticipating so many other things which practically is far far away from the thought of helping someone in need. but it is strange that we live in a world that is actually qt far from the cries of the world. especially in dubai when life moves from ac chambers to stocks of toilet rolls for tomorrow...u can imagine how close actually we r to charity.

Tuesday, 5 June 2007

today's hot topic

ofcourse everyday there is some steamy topic. i am qt close to it by calling it steamy. this was on a resent marketing presentation that aimed at a total re-look at our design and product quality approach. the manager ended the session saying..."so all this will get u more bang for the buck"...applause! applause!
all of us left the presentation room. sun went down the concreate jungle. came out tday again from the opposite direction. and suddenly the topic was in the air..."so how did u find the presentation yesterday" asked a frnd. "o m g! it was disgusting to hear the last line...what did boss mean by is so gross she harped" our friend here wasnt aware of more such sick n slick business and pro management terms which mostly men lashout to outsmart the contemporaries and gain that extra bit of attention by going wild over vulgar connotations that r put across as a matter of fact and r mostly taken in good humour. like the usage 'orgasmic technology'...another one...."it was as wonderful as an instant orgasm"...yet another common one on a female team leader's powerful presentation "o she was in a frenzy like a bangkok slut"...and the kind is always there in and around board rooms and tea tables where big wigs hob nob for business. we creatives get v lil of the big bad world they represent or air out on mere chance...but are taken aback to ponder and wonder with an exclaimation on the 'so it is' tag lines everytime such a word / phrase is thrown over ur face. humble but not qt so.

mrs iyer

she was a rolly polly good humored lady, who was my land lady's daughter in law. this was when i was in mumbai. she was like my elder sister, very caring. we used to share sms jokes and would catchup on phone during wee hrs...when i had an evening shift and as she was in a call centre that worked as per US working hrs. her husband was a lazybum. who had malluvian thoughts to support his claims on why he never stuck to a job. he used talk a lot. he thought he was a charmer and literally, like in hindi we say, was a true chipko. he would start his chipko movement anywr with anyone whom he could talk to...while he waited for his wife to come home and make his next meal. the iyer lady was married to this mallu man who had absolutely no qualms abt his ways. i used to wonder who is a bigger fool among them...the iyer lady or the mallu guy...definitely the mallu cannot b a fool as he bears the popular image of straight, sour and healthy like the jalebi (read me wrong here) fella. but as the saying goes even the iyers hold qt a senior post among those in india, considered intelligent by birth. u know what i mean rt?

from house loans to vegetable shops this lady had to run around as her very busy husband could not afford to waste his time on such regular jobs that anyway wr designated by default to the women. and the loan and bank rounds? yes that was on hr name, as she was the earning member who has an active salary! also...women cud get these jobs done better than men in the corporate world rt!!!!?

these two would drop in to say hi to my land lady and sometimes chat up anyone else under the chipko effect. and hence i got as many things to put it in here. once when the land lady had to go out of station she let the house to be completely manned by me. there wr two other girls also sharing the same two room apartment. but i was the chosen i still had those wild hours of wrking for a tv station that i ended up spending day time at home. so i was incharge...of gas, water, electricity and what not. even laxmi our maid.

then in one of those weekends these two dropped in and i cooked a meal for them. i had no family in mumbai as i saw them not less than someone close enough. from the kitchen to the dining area there a few steps to count. while i shifted food and plated to the dining area i noticed that all the rooms had lights and fans on. plus the tv when no one was watching it. i went and switched them all off...diligently like how my land lady wud hav done. i was incharge rt. and so i came back to business of being the good host. then again after a while i realized all the switches wr on. i just told myself aloud "aunty will kill me when she comes back for all this wastage" and then continued switching one gadget after the other.

when i came bk to the dining table mrs iyer was not in a good mood. lunch was brief. the chipko chatoed off my head for my attitude towards them. they apparently got me wrong completely. while i was obeying my landlady i seem to have rubbed them off the wrong way. he said "we r a family and how dare you tell that to my wife...she is the daughter of this house". this jolted me out of my slumber. i had forgotten that mallus out of kerala also retain their ability to blame. they just need any excuse and about anyone. i did not utter a word and kept to myself...and also said sorry to mrs iyer who had now retired to the bed room. she was also apologetic. we solved it between us. the moral of the incident is that never make friends with fools. you never know what hurts them and why they wud drag u into a situation u don deserve.

poor veronica

thats yet another nickname i got ...ofcourse another of those that i did not desire in the campus. sometimes, most of the times, it is a misunderstanding that gets you a reputation. and that which u get in college doesn go even if u change your passport. a friend of mine had a nice looking girl friend, my junior. i always felt they made a good pair. my frnd shared his dreams of spending his life with his girl. i named their kids also...borrowing hints from their first names. life was v fine. until oneaday this lady stopped talking to him. i enquired obviously as my friend had suddenly sprouted a 'devadas' beard over the weekend and was looking even more shabby with his untrimmed mane, which now covered his ears like it did in the 70's...remember jitendra and amitabh era of white bell bottoms...well my frnd was v far from amitabh or jitendra in the glamour factor but was in pain...childish but qt serious as he mentioned then. i was trying to help him by playing the swan. but his girl had now transformed to a snake,,,slippery and venomous. she was literaly hissing when i tried to talk to her. and blamed me bluntly for something that happened between them. o m g!? what did i do now i thought. she also puked out a dialogue...qt an interesting one "you are the veronica in my life"...i guess she wud hav made a rocking career in scripting. but that was the end of her. i donno what happened to my frnd and his love interest there after. sometimes u get stung to learn to keep out. i learnt it that way...and hav always never ever tried to fix things between people in love...or who wr once in love. its an art to deal with the matters of heart ...which poor veronica din hav, i realise. thank you friends for opening my eyes.

crater in the purse

i came across this usage yesterday when my sis was talking abt the no good that her mnc job was doing even after her struggles to make it to to the top-most that anyone her age cud scale. another time my sis in law, who serves a fairly good profile in the software industry in india..., too mentioned what a drain it was in her balance if she had to travel by air to her beau who at a state's stretch...i was trying and explaining my sis who wanted some serious advice on money management. she is young and still receptive than most hot bloods. and hence here are some lines from our email converstaion:

simi: You know Akka-its sm times frustrating I still
find myself sustaining on a shoe-string budget, hunting for low cost
fares tht fly during ghost hours. Anyway my purse is gonna have a big
crater by the end of the trip. I just don ustand akka - the moment I
think of saving sm bucks;expenditures will flow from all sides.I need
your advise - hw much money shud I carry to kerala? I am gna book airdeccan
late nite fares both ways - ttl is 7k + 1 k fr car.As flight will land
at 11:30. hw much money shud I earmark and take.The moment is like that
of once in a life time - however money rules.

Pls let me have your insight.

babluvian thought: remember one matter how much u earn, no matter how much u is to spend when the need be. u r lucky u can stiff afford to spend. imagine abt someone who is broke in the real one to turn to and all that. tday u can b glad that the crater will finally help u make a flying visit for an unprecedented call like that from home. trro it will b something else. u must thank god u can atleast see the crater - it is only symbolic of ur ability to afford...craters will come n go. but what needs to be made a habit is to fill (keep filling) the crater and let the depth seem lesser, so that u can keep meeting ur needs / duties. 3yrs is no big deal. come 30 more and u will just say 'money rulz'...thats the way life is.

everything depends on what u hav, money rulz behen. but there is also someone called god...and i hav faith in him to fix things beyond my reach. and i hope things will fall in place as time arrives. 'samay se pehle aur kismat se jyada kuch nahi milega...par jo milna hai woh milke rahega aur jo jana hai jake' chill out.

if u really want some coin to coin advice...make a budget and try and stick to it. don worry, gir girke hi aadmi khada hota hai...u will soon find the balance.

its not ever as yet

when the itch is stronger u dig deep. to spill it all. i remember i had a pen of my classmates during college days with whom i shared a lot of thoughts on 'blankness'...thoughts that went ambling from one corner to no corner...we used to mail eachother during annual leaves. my letter would weigh 150 gms and hers wud weigh almost same...but she used to write more as her handwriting had less leading space (leading is a typical terminology used by editors who curn the space between words to fit a document into the page plan). and she had wilder she once kept me thinking on what wud be there is there was no planet no space...and what was there beyond it. o m g! i thought and thought and reached no wr as usual...but it was qt a winding thought. it exhausted or refreshed me like after a roller coaster ride or appu columbus ride rather. i used to call her sanki (short form for sangeeta or literally in hindi it means the mad one). she as my soul soup finder...for qt some time. i thought she wud still be thoughtful...until she popped in a funny question just after my marriage "when r u planning to have babies"...o m g! i couldn believe marital bliss cause so much damage to she was married and 'settled' (read it and understand it like the regular indian in terms of household chores and domesticity that brings women closer to kitchen than career). i wasn aware of her for sometime i guess as our lifes took us on different oaths after college. but she is still v dear to me. though i have let distance creep between us for teh better of the two...the two of us and the other two we have in our lives now (in her case 2 and a half as she has a lil one) and let her be in the paradise that she describes she best fits in. i am happy for her and we r frnds who grew apart but are grown ups in our own findings abt life. our worlds do not think the way we used to once upon a time. the bottom line is we r happy anyways....and the gap doesn really exist as much as i remember last time we caught up...we caught up on something absolutely new and fresh and not like nostalgic old best pals wood generally do with lingering good old memories. and still the conversation was worth the while.

Monday, 4 June 2007

ode to a gossip monger

thats an interesting topic...i can go on and on and on...someone said gossip is healthy...then no wonder why i see everyone around gleefully healthy here. well this is specifically targeted at a female whom i hang around with, with whom i get along with, but is a big time tongue troubler...yes she might make u puke out something which u wud otherwise in your sane self keep out of. she is contagious, she a phenomenon and she wears me out fully....not just because i find her edgy but i mostly feel like giving her a tight one on her butt. but...u know how it is when u cant do u it. u feel miserable and sorry for yourself as mostof the time u r caught in the clutches so badly that even if u want to crawl out u wont b spared. she is such a mind and energy drain that i can least put in words here. she can jump sides from aunt agony to chirpy teem loafer to health freak to fad fashionista to name it anything under the sun...she will have an opinion to spill...which she makes sure gets heard no matter what. if people ignore her she will break into fits of laughter or hum a tune that can distract and attract as much attention as she seeks. i hav a wild thought for my dear friend...i really wish good luck to her psychiatrist and her family who is still bearing with the witch in her. i love being with her for just one reason that she reminds me what all one should not say... and do while engaged ina conversation. thanks my frnd... kabira tu dost hoke aisa sacha roop dikhata hai ki aisa aine mein dekhne se mooh mukarta hai. wah! wah!

sushi is not enuff

the itch is so strong since last two days were really busy in all terms. at home and at work. and then there is no time in between. even at the gym...eyes trip to the clock faster than my legs at work on the treadmill to guess a glimpse of the long and short of it...yes guess becos i don wear glasses while working out, it slips of ur sweaty to keep a track of how much i can give to the muscle fat-balance as my trainer red wishes. yes red is his name...he is v pink is health n is bright with he truly deserves the name. so it has been crazy. and the itch prevails larger than it is generally as in between all the busy schedules that muddle me...a few important developments have come to shape. cherry is coming home after 7 years. she is 14. i will miss her. thats is the first one. second is that i am able to juggle home n office at the expense of a lil rough edge on deepak. but he is a gem as i hav pronounced earlier but u know how it is when u expect...there is no end. we stumble and fall and then pause while still on the mad rush...the wildest one that one can ever get into. i call it wild cos it is the concrete jungle were cat like species armed in digital arrogance struts past every normal thing with whiff or snooty air that smells of pretence...they are reeling in it. and hence it is pretence. but the game is fair. as u too get a chance to be ur pretence best and strut around in arrogance of ur fullest choice. no i am not talking of life in dubai...but life in general as the new age takes strides to picture perfect life and beyond. we want a taste of everything. no sushi is not enuff.

Thursday, 31 May 2007

victoria beckem

that anorexic looking spice girl who clings to the very handsome english foot ball star. yes, she has been popping up in a lot of conversations recently in my mid-meal brks that i share with my girl colleagues in office. non of them approve of her. like oprah or rachael ray or tyra banks...who are all for the curvy/normal women to other mindful things that they suggest women are capable of. as most of us know - dubai is the land of the fatty acid ;-)...yes u cant help but gain some extra flab (people say ur wt gain dirctly proportional to ur bank balance...i wish that was true...anyway) no matter how genetically thin u r, u gain it here. and most of the topic that women discuss here move around their waistlines and clothe sizes. somebody was recently telling me that it is the water. she swore by it and said that its is the high sodium content in the water that makes one bloat here. or is it the chicken...or the chicken life style...or the potatoes or the couch potato lifestyle? guessing never stop and girls don keep shut for all you know...and not. i thought under the abaya (the long black dress worn by arab muslim women) life was so much figure conciousless...but i was proved wrong at the ladies room. band gobhi ke andar se phool gobhi my freind prashant sharma puts it. yes...halter tops and trendy jeans all under the black lock! so now i know why waitloss institutions have a sprawling future in the uae. everyone wants to be a victoria beckhem. i personally feel skinny women are scary. not just in looks but also in their mood swings...that might erupt scary mental sightings out of carbohydrate deficient diet. yes sugarless food can make u ugly by behaviour too. its all proven by the sciences...i don want to spill something which can be googled and learnt by those who want to. mbc 4 has a new series called the extreme celebrity 00 (double zero size). there is another popular term in the arab world that calls a few dump people the same "he is not even a zero...he is double zero, meaning that dumb" well that fits this situation also i feel. if u have the mind u will never go overboard on this silly aspect so much. it is amazing how much people in the glam world can do to get in and stay there in the lime light. i pity their bodies. that not just undergo regular self criticism but also get caught by the tabloid media and the doctor's knife. they slice it all in perfect forms so that the hour glass doesnt go one size this or that side. mothers in hollywood have kind of inspired women all over the wold to get thinner and thinner...until they disappear in the wretched goings of their lives. in one of our gossip sessions...a frnd just told how much victoria undergoes to keep her secret out in the open. she updates that apparently she sits tight on floor and folds her legs, holds them close to her body and weeps when she is hungry!!! how gross does that sound. tormenting urself to look like whatever u define like it is to be 'good looking' . horrorrible i wud like to announce the trend!

Wednesday, 30 May 2007

name sore

I dont know if that phrase / usage exists. anyway, donno y I still have this girl in my mind, who was the bubbliest of all whom I knew...until I realised that she was as much miserable as much as she appeared to be gleefully halo-ed. now I dont want to name her. she was one of my hostel mates. who bore her uncle's wild oats for 22days and got rid of the growing bump on her belly with some doctor's help. I am sure anyone would find this story moving as well as gross. moving because this lil girl was barely 17 and gross because this man was her own uncle (mom's sister's husband) in his middle ages. I knew her uncle. well rounded guy in his 40s. I wud mumble to myself 'bloody naughty 40 F****** fat A**' whenever I caught a glimpse of him while running through the stairs to catch the 402 DTC that took me to CP. he had dreamy (drunk) eyes with a very voyeuristic twinkle....yes he used to scan girls as they wud pass by him, while he waited diligently for his niece urf keep!. he was fair, had pink lips. not as pink as sushant's my pg class (sushant had the pinkest-orangy lips...may b bcos he drank a lot of fanta!...he wud blush everytime i made fun of his girl like pout). ok now let me get back to the other man... he must have been on pan n beeda to keep his lips coloured or to get that kick which raw tobacco gave...he was that kind. and kind enuff to mind wash our lady into all that she did not deserve. the story is more winding than i would want to describe here. but the moral remains un-moral. and that relationships of the wildest order do exist everywr...not just on dr phill's shows. i dont know what happened to her or the goings. as i left for new hostel and conveniently forgot abt her for a while...and did not get any updates from common friends. or may be i did not bother to find out also. cant justify my deeds as i was engaged in a race to make my career and everything stood secondary or nil then. i hope she has grown up and grown out of the sour / sore experiences and is happy with a good job and a nice partner. I wish her love.

manjunath kamath

that was the weirdest name i thought i heard of someone whom i knew. this one was called by his of my oldest kind of lost track with him. was a grt artist. now must hav got his own sprawling business smwr in the delhi suburbs. kamath became a house hold name when i was in mumbai for a couple of years. u get manglorean delicacies there...and i kind of developed a taste for the sambar that had jagerry in it. but when i actually visited udupi and mangalore later, i realised what a con kamath was...i mean the restraunt where mumbaikars gathered to savour mangalorean delicacies. at karkala i tasted some out of the world authentic mangalorean stuff. they have something called a it like a mallu calls a bun (benn) wasnt baked but deep fried. was sweet but not as sweet as a sweet dish and was served with piping hot watery sambar...a grt treat to start to day. kamath and manjunath wr names found all across the region...from karakala to udupi to padbidri to mangalore...i must have seen atleast a dozen of them...on bus boards to tea stalls that dotted all across the highway. now manjunath or kamath wr not as strange as i thought they were to be called. by the wat manjunath is hindu deity lord shiva as well. actually tday what we call weird might become a household thing trrow...u never know. i feel bad for the guy who was called psycho and was hanged when he said people can talk over a distance or that man could fly. how gullible do we get when it is to just air our thoughts that we think are weird when they might actually hold something beneath...that we din know at that point.

Sunday, 20 May 2007

Rake and Ramblin' Man

Rake and Ramblin' Man -lyrics
Artist:Don Williams

I ran into an old friend of mine the other day.
We hadn’t seen each other for quite a while.
What he had to say to me hit me pretty hard,
‘cause I think a lot of folks get started this way. He said:

I thought it would be so easy, another one night stand.
She seemed so warm and willin’, right in the palm of my hand.
Now it’s three months ago last Wednesday since I woke up in her bed.
Lord I think I love her, but it scares me half to death.

‘Cause you know I’m a rake and a ramblin’ man
Free as an eagle flies
Well, look at me now and tell me true:
Do I look like a daddy to you? Oh, do I look like a daddy to you?

Now she’s feelin’ sick in the mornin’s; She can’t get into her jeans.
I spent my last ten dollars, bought her a second hand ring.
I start to work next Monday ‘cause I just can’t let her down.
I’ve had me some good times, but it’s all changin’ now.

You know I’m a rake and a ramblin’ man,
Free as an eagle flies.
Well look at me now and tell me true:
Do I look like a daddy to you?
Oh, do I look like a daddy to you?

You know I’m a rake and a ramblin’ man,
Free as an eagle flies.
Well look at me now and tell me true:
Do I look like a daddy to you?
Oh, do I look like a daddy to you?

bombino rice

you know am a rake and a rambling as an eagle fly...look at me now and tell me the i look like a daddy to i look like a daddy to you. don willams sang all day long. and angulimal would walk with his unkempt hair...cigarette between his fingers and telephone calls one after the other. thats what i called him. angulimal. that was a demon like character in my hindi text book - kishore bharti, in class 4, i believe. he killed people and wore a necklace made out of human fingers (anguli in sanskrit). but my angulimal was just namesake. he was a cool chap, my best friend once upon a time. i could practice short put by flinging the breakfast pack while he helped me cross the nala to reach my bus stop in saket. i must have been barely 7 or 8. but i remember him so well. he was such a good friend. when we reached the bridge...he would look at me and hint...its time to throw...what!? my breakfast...which i hated to eat, anyway. i would give the world's widest grin and throw it as far as i could...and wait till the aluminium foil sank and went deep down into the black waters of the nala. i was a poor eater all the time. mom wud fish out weeks old sandwitches and chappatti rolls from under my mattress...and wud thank god that the place was not infested of ants and the like due to chilly wheather. most of the time she wudn know whether to scold me or to laugh. but i wouldnt eat anyway. was v stubborn. another day our neighbour was cleaning her walls and found her parapet which was rt under my room's window...things like unopened fruit cake packets, fruitys and the was v upset by now as she had to get me rid of this habit. slowly it was the talk of every party. i got sick of it. but i wudn eat. i was growing thinner by the day i weighed 9 kilos lesser than i shud have. soon i acquired a new name. angulimal called me somali kutty (meaning...the one from somalia, the land of the impoverished). i cried the whole evening, as i was hurt. then he took me around and refreshed my mood with an orange candy ice cream...the only thing i loved to my tongue wud go orangish red and i wud stick it out on all windows that came by while we strolled in the market.
my sister joined me very soon in the act of disposal. not that she did not like eating, but she was fascinated by the task i wud engage in every morning...infact every meal. once mom left us some special rice called the bombino rice, brown rice. i found it most otherthings that had to pass my mouth. but i knew my sister wud play brutus. she was too young. so told her we will play a game and we make big long kababs out of the rice...and one by one we dropped it in the western closet and flushed it. she shrieked...'ayye it looks like potty!' i told also tastes like potty so thats why i am sending where it belongs. angulimal grew up and got lost somewr along the line of time and place...we all flew across to different places and are v far from those mindless days. but my sis n me still laugh over the bombino rice....

Saturday, 19 May 2007

if u can get away ... u r lucky

no that is not what i learnt in school. nor was that what my friends taught me. it was very recently that i came across a larger meaning to this simple phrase. it is not a meaningful way to get around things. but an old colleague who knew every bit of the new institution i work for...swears by the line everytime he elaborates an old case study to prove his point.

and yes it occurred to me as well that what he said was rt.

another colleague who comes late to office, leaves early, makes exist now and then on the cards of meeting a new client and comes back before the clock strikes 6pm...a flying visit...with tiered eyes...drooping shoulder...very symbolic of how hectic the day was and that the project is taking so much more than one can. he gets a raise...double that we get. y!? the toil and moil that gets seen. and us...the frustrated a** h**** gets seen no were...inspite of our creative juices flowing all over flooding every corner of this place, which runs on what falls out of our heads. y!? cos we don make faces. i mean the sad, tiered ones...and we seem comfortably perched on specially designed office chairs to keep out neck and eyes in place to glue well to the screens and think. obviousley with the pretext of chasing a goal which does not exist. or exists at a far reasonably easy measure that what is portrayed.

so when we seem sitting pretty, the other one is running around...who gets seen!?

ofcourse the squeeky wheel gets the oil.,

its the itch again

well i am no longer waiting for deepu's i know exactly when he must and must not call and we have found a routine over the lastone year of marriage. but the itch is as always to do something creative...which will transport me to a world were i think i belong. do i belong there!? no let me not let interruptions interrupt.

so the itch is rt now to write something. its more than a week and especially when i have done not much mailing and chatting my finger tips sprawl around to spill it all out. yes...what!? no i dont know. i am still finding. i told u. its just an itch.

tday in the et's web edition i just came acrosss the restless new generation which is fed by google like time chalance. to get a hang on everything possible. the fashionable tday is not just good looking or smart...but someone who can pronounce 'parkour' properly. i know u are just itched enuff to google for that word ;-)

life is full of itches but the best part is that there are no swelling or reddness...all pain. my random thoughts travel all around to itchy and not so itchy corners...posessed by one word, a drama, that unfolds when i am with my partner...the keyboard, who is as dear as deepu. infact i have deepu because of the key board. we wr chat friends first. thats how itch all began.

Friday, 4 May 2007

when life turns around

sometimes u have these 'enemies' who will go to any extend to harm you. most of them r wicked by nature. u cant help being nice to them...but u will be in a forced situation where you have to be nice. no matter what. then what happens. one fine day they drop the bomb(s) and u r out. the wicked intentions come true with the case that was well-built in the past from the differennt follies...situtaions that cud trap u. yes i am talking of office politics. it is a never ending story. each of us have come across something or the other in our careers...or are under-going one such situation rt now. no one is new to this age old topic. but as a 'blogittarian' it helps me release some steam...n it helps me feel better as i chip in a few words to no where.u know what, with me things hav turned around. a few people tried getting me out of sinc but their intentions din get heard. obviosly becos it was wicked. then what happened? life turnd around. and i am so happy that the political theories come to a cool close. i am relishing every second of my life. touch wood. i mean it from the bottom of my heart. i love u god!

did i talk to god ?

last few days i was in a trans...i generally engage in a monologue when i am seraching for some answrs and most oftenly i find answers myself...thanks to some leads in to the other and voila...u get the answer. but most of the time i wasn sure of the answer and then the process continues...on and on...but recently i have seen that it is someone else who is doing the second person's talking...most oftenly he doesn let me finish my thought. and i get the answer. is he god? like george almighty asks? is he really GOD?i have started lighting a candle every morning. and have recently started thanking god for every day that went by. is god stopping by me to check out my issues? i sister says that when u r worried and if u open the bible...u will find the exact lines that uwanted to read. i always used to brush her aside saying 'it was a ht of coincidence'.off late my monologues have dissappeared. perhaps my questions are vanishing. now all the answers seem ready to come one after the other. i seriously dont know what to ask. now this person keeps answering all the time. where was he all this while?...see i din complete this question and he said the answer all ready. he says i was lost in the noise that i had inside and thus never bothered to listen to him. n that now its turn as the noise is he will speak ... it seems. actually it is not any voice i hear...just that my thoughts only...i don feel like completing it. i got the answer

What Happened to Banyan Tree Kurtas?

Did not think twice. The way I launched my line without studying the basics of the apparel industry still gives me shivers. Staking my meagre savings of an year as a journalist… to collect loom samples powered by love for art and some faint memory of few classes at a fashion technology institute... that I left to attend to other priorities... I set start to have my own line of kurtas… with a small stitching unit of three part-time tailors who used random stitching machines at a tailoring avenue in Navi Mumbai. Banyan Tree Kurtas was born on a summer day in 2004… in looms collected over two years of backpack trips across the country.

A patachitra from Banyan Tree Kurta line… after many washes … clicked after 10 years in 2014
It all began from a random chat at work. The discussion was around some show on fashion TV. "They call it fashion but how is it even wearable".  Somebody answered, "But then ramp wear is not always prêt-à-porter (ready-to-wear). They are just expressions of art and evolution as it happens in the fashion industry in that part of the world." To this another voice asked, "So why is all this happening only in Paris?" Somebody else responded, "Because the French have maximum stake in FTV."

The Mumbai desk had more fashion and cinema news. It was far from news desks in New Delhi. There the fashion news was a part of the page 3 team of fashionable journalists. Though high-street fashion was affordable and available everywhere in Mumbai, it was made out of sub-standard material which you could dispose after a wear or two. And shops that sold better quality wears were definitely not for the common Mumbaikars.

My first canon digicam saw the finished Banyan Tree Kurtas before anyone else.

My roommate and I modelled... and shot each other... in the finished products before it went online. Clearly we were neither models nor ace photographers.
Close up of a design on the stole… have no clue what happened to the last batch of these. Perhaps my grandmother's almirah's last compartment houses them still.

From my travels to various states in the country I was fascinated by the traditional art forms. I could not change the world around me but was seeking non-factory-made authentic art and its representation in my adaptations.

Patachitra, amrapali paintings, legends and gods in different moods… all took centre stage on the chest of my Kurtas. Hand-painted and embroidered… sometimes late into the night and lo! I had enough to announce to the world. A friend suggested a friend who may be keen to launch a website and experiment a bit with e-com. Voila! was online. 

This is how the website looked. Just like you search for lost items in the most unprovable corners in desperation… i found this link when I googled for a website that does not exist. And felt very lucky to have found it. Bit tacky to my eyes today, those days it used to make my eyes sparkle in a dream-come-true manner. Too many firsts need not always result in a blockbuster. Lessons on cutting, stitching, marketing, presenting, walking alone late night with bundles of clothes on either hands, keeping off without arguing large-scale business ideas of other business friends... everything had to be learnt to support the passion.

The kurtas sold like hot cakes. And some ordered for copies. Ideally at this point I must feel very good, but then that is when I realised I don't want to make copies and the genre am addressing to do not get the point. They did not get the reason why my looms came from across the states. It was not important of them to know why oriya silk kurta had patachitra. In fact it did not even matter if there was a silk called as tusser.

Some samples were left at offices of established boutique brands found in large shopping malls with detailed manuscript of each kurta's journey and mind. Big mistake. There was no copyright or revenue model in place. Found one of my patterns (cuts including design and hand painted art) copied… hanging in bulk in various sizes in its store... without permission from its creator (me). Stealing is an offence but nobody is scared of that really! This taught me that what catches the eye is what sold in India, not necessarily what goes behind it as such. I got the answer why art had no interest among it multi-billion populi who spent millions in multiplexes or its billionaires acquiring pride by building 13 storey houses in the middle of the city.

Lot of people wanted to promote the kurtas for free! My support system sucked. Lot of them wanted it as gifts and I was not seeing any returns. I couldn't put a proper price to various trips for eligible material or my man hours in research and development… as well as art creation. I could not crib because anyone I spoke to would ask 'what my problem was despite a great job, youth and no responsibilities'. I had no answers than wonder what made them truly happy and feel bad sometimes or be completely frustrated.

Happy costumers and friends sent pictures wearing the kurtas on festivals like Diwali. This one is dated 11/8/2005 sent by a dear friend.
Soon my ATM slips showed balance nearing an all time drop. Nothing or nobody could stop me from going broke. It was another first. The lesson learnt under the banyan tree venture has been priceless… it has helped me bridge better relationships… find like-minded-innovative-creative-friends… a network that believed in independent life lives on their own terms etc. 

For all valid reasons BTK did not take off as a successful business in 2004… but am happy people loved the kurtas. It was also the first time I allowed myself the popular belief - that it is better to do a mistake than do nothing!

To those who asked how I find the time to do all this… I mean continue to do beautiful mistakes I had an answer those days - if career is what helps you earn then your calling is where you spend it. And to those who din't ask in appreciation or ask why the hell am I doing so many things I satisfied them by smiley icons because my face won't make so many wonderful gestures even if I tried ;)

unwanted socialism

hey i am not an extrovert!? or am i?hav never been able to figure out this. but i am qt happy the way i am. sometimes though, it is tough, an image can always be a star sign claims that i am an outgoing person. that iam...i love going out. meeting people. getting attention. but i hav reservations. well that somehow squeezes me into the larger genre of introverts...who have som any other complications in life.i clearly feel that ia m not an introvert either.what am i!?i though as much and more even bfore i turned 18...i wanted to write a book. not on myself...but on the findings i cherish as absolutely my own...from my life...u know simple observations.but it was amma who said. wait till u r 40!...40!? thats still so far. but i found some stupid reason to hold back my creative juices. i am lucky i did. i didn want criticm and disection of everything taht i penned down. it wud hav shattered my peace of mind...pace in career...every wr. especially because i see socialising as a need of mere existence...not that i don have true friends...but sometimes u have to talk just to get heard...

ac rooms and toilet rollsbeing

being in dubai is all and not about airconditioned chambers and toilet tissuesit is not easy for many of us to lead a sweaty smelly street life all life long. and then we choose to step into dubai. for airconditioned chambers and toilet tissues. no its not a joke. finally it all adds up to these two. perdominantly these two. the living space and the lifestyle in a nutshell doesnt go far beyond these two objects here.but we warned, though i might sound sarcastic...the two are one of a kind and are quite addictive by nature.when u fly back home, to cannor live without the two - ac rooms and tissues rolls - v non-planet friendly. that is what we finally take bk with us from this land of ac and tissue rolls

eye contact

"that is why i dont make eye contact with any men here," sweared a collegue who was in utter disgust after another revealed some office gossip. apparently she belived, like a lot of indians, that 'indian servitude has colonial roots' and that the way people behaved even tday has something to reflect from the past. well it sounded true to me. or else why would asians be happy to associate with the white skinned cold westerners. if u r genuine buddies it was understandable...but talking just to make a connection is silly, right?so the eye contact means a lot more than just connecting or ackowledging the other person's presence. here we were talking about why asian women over do it - with men of the whiter race. "they feel happy with the very thought that they are liked". well that was too much me to take. i defended with whatever i got. but i stood no chance to win the debate as truely there we examples around who cud let down my mere or outdated citings.

mid week madness

yes sometimes its like that. especially on tuesdays. just another day to go and thrusday comes...which is the week end. weekend starts on thrusday evening itself. that is the whole point. the inspiration. friday is the day to sleep. saturday has no deadlines. while u get ready for the next week to roll by, u know u need not rush through the chores.u can relax and chose ur pace to get things done. and sunday - the week begins. but for the rest fo the world. sunday is sunday. so sunday still holds that magic. though u hav deadlines and offcial mails to answer on sunday. monday is truely monday. it is a week day. and everyone is working. no time to idle. its monday. monday blues set in and go without ur notice...and then. its tuesday. just another day to go and then its thursday. see how easily we skip the wednesday. does it exist at all!? so u can imagine what it is like to be on a tuesday. the tuesday situation is so typical of lovers who plan to get married after a couple of months. there is some spice and restlessness...which i cant explain more. u out to be here on my seat. living my life in duabi...and u will nod a yes to my ambling thoughts.
lets try n enjoy the grind till it lasts... enjoy the brk till it lasts. wadelz!


that was a painful word for me to deal all this while. cos of witnessing close relations and blood-lines fade off with poor management or pr skills.

tday i feel liberated all of a sudden though i hav almost estranged someone i thought was really close.

the day did not start off on a grt note. i made an angry call early this morning. definitely ruined the guy's day-perhaps his whole week-as it is a monday. but i had solid reasons. this close friend who is more than a brother to someone, suddenly has turned cold, to one and all. no one knows why!

life and times what else should one say. but i was not willing to give up. i asked what the matter was. he was a happy man who wanted to know when we wr arriving for his wedding. did he really want us around?

off late he never did made any attempt to keep in touch. we had to believe that he has changed - for whatever has changed him this way.

i donno y i called this man. blasted him for years of obscure silence. i was so disappointed - i don recollect what i said and i did not. i had armed myself the mighty reason of a bygone friendship. his thoughtful excuses wr abrupt - there was no more connection - i realised painfully that we wr nw strangers.

let dwn totally... with no more words... time or energy to bear with him - i resigned to fate. this time unhurt and with a liberated feeling. to demand anything out of old ties is not fair - i understood hesitantly. learnt it the hard way.

Thursday, 15 March 2007

hidden duties

last one week was wonderful. yes i have started thanking god for the good things in life even when i am dealing with tougher times. tough now seems easy. thanks to 'law of attraction' the secret hint!. thanks oprah!

tday while i was travelling to office...heard this wierd thing on the breakfast show where the radio jockey was squeeking out how stupid blogging is and how wierd she finds those bloggittarians...and 'new species' who, according to her, 'are desparate to find attention' from almost anyone in the net. she owes an apology to orkut. she also mentiond that it is a sign of desparateness that people log on to social sites. well i am not interested in generating opinions on this. let her b happy with her findings. anyone who posts has the right to own up his actions...and like feather flock together. i am indeed so happy we can blog, chat, catchup online. we need not wait for someone to listen to us all the time we want to share something. we can post it and tell it out to anyone and everyone by blogging - its is for me n u who lie this new hobby!...wr we can think n type freely and enjoy the freedom of word n thought n space unlimited...unlike the pea-brained radio jockey who parrots out borrowed ideas thru her nose [sorry she also has an annoying nasal voice - not to my joy]. i think it is the evolution we have to accept. bloggitarians are a catching...n very useful for those who want to be useful. u cant direct they should lead their lives...there is no ifs n buts that are for why bother at all. live n let live babe.

it is wonderful to know that our hidden duties actually make or mar our lives. we think of success and we attract it into our lives. we think of love and we attract true love. we become purely happy by being happy. it is so simple n meaningful. life is actually so simple and nice. its high time each of us knew this hidden truth n lead a life happily ever after way. by the way why did i get all so fired up at that rj in between? no idea! but truly no hidden agendas here - please!

Saturday, 3 March 2007

apj songs

apj song dedicated to the hostel and ram singh sir (PT)

ik din ghis gayenge jooton ke sole
unme hojayenge bade bade hole
humari tamanna hai ke PT nahi ho
subah yeh shlokon ka smaran nahi ho

apj song dedicated to madhu ma'm (sanskrit)

falam fale falani
aapki sanskrit
hume na aani

Wednesday, 28 February 2007

Morning bird

the first rays of cool mornings wr always dear to me. The first of what comes to my mind when i think abt early morning is apeejay noida's hostel. up at 5 in the morning gong bells to jog to rose garden and back, after which the yoga sessions started. it wud still be dark or just the beginning of the dawn break. then 10 minutes of meditation with eyes closed. by now it wud be past 6am. and when i opened my eyes everything felt so fresh new with a blue outline - clear green grass, cool purple skies - a wonderful day. one could sit there for a while to bask the nature, loads of fresh vitamin d and beautiful green grass adorned with sparkling dew drops. suddenly all the aches and pains of the morning exertion seemed disappearing in thin air. Hmmm the air was also so fresh, i cud smell the fresh grass of the football ground near which we were perched on yogic postures.

After school I din see mornings for qt a while. I jst stopped waking up early like most of my school mates did. I grew lazy to get up. back at with gparents in the cozy anscetral home in kerala, i got enuff and more reasons to sleep as much as i wanted. unlike my mom, my grand parents thought its cruel to call up their first grand child out of her beauty sleep. But as I grew older, my grandmom grew worried of the situation. “what will she do after her marriage, in her new house. Ur mom in law is not going to let u sleep till afternoon.” She would talk to no one while she cleared things in my bedroom at 8 am. 8 was too early still, as I cud, if I wanted, sleep till lunch was ready at 12.30pm.

Once again I had to get up early. This time I was back in delhi in 2000, in the ywca. sona, a fitness freak friend, motivated me to stay in good shape. I had barely any shape then being pencil thin, but I thought it wud help me fight dull/sleepy moments in class n stay alert all day. this was serious grown-up jogging. We used to jog our hearts out on the streets of japath at 5 am. Winter mornings were cruel in the beginning with nose and finger tips frost bitten on heavily foggy roads. but that was the best time on earth - the only time u cud see one of the busiest streets of delhi in absolute peace with itself. No vehicles, no shops open, no one at sight…brilliantly cityscaped... an old woman who was fully wrapped in winter clothing was found brooming through the dew drops - everyday at the same time at the same place…if she was not there we knew we wr late. Sona worked as a manager at pizza hut. She soon got transferred to bangalore. That was the end of my jogging season.

the next chapter of early morning wr shared with a colleague, shubha, in mumbai - we braved cold waters for an early morning swim in the pool. it was wonderful.

mornings taught me all we need is a kick in the butt - to get uo - rest of it is all so wonderful and great to be alive!

Recently, here in dubai, now my office timings have changed. I see everything from 6am to 7.30am…the skies in the desert is the most beautiful sight that nature offers. Dubai is artificially very green…but what I see above is what I like - the blue skies with so many hues early in the morning. Everyday is a new picture. I am not annoyed by the traffic, as I don’t drive and I can while away into random thoughts gazing the morning sky. Its vacant but so full of many things. Every side u turn to, is a new canvass. U can travel miles across the space searching for deeper tint of the colour that u see. I love mornings.

American coffee

American coffee

Travelling from sharjah to dubia is quite a pain if u have to hire a taxi. Actually u have to hire a taxi as the public busses in the emirates are quite infrequent. Another bottleneck is that sharjah taxis have to run back without plying dubai customers. That’s a rule. So these fellas hesitate to take u across. Once I had to threaten a cab driver by telling him that I wont alight. It was an insult for me to alight everytime after I told my destination.

I had to come to dubai for an interview. I was lucky as this cabby did not change his mind after knowing my destination. All the while on my way, I was thinking of the right things to say. It was 80 bucks. I pulled out the notes and handed over to him. Exact change. Ah! I thought. “hello madam!” the cab driver’s call pulled me back in to the seat. He fanned the notes I gave. They were Indian rupees - not dirhams - to my shock and surprise. wondering hw i could do that, fished for dirhams and realised there was no enough change. before I cud open my mouth, the car behind started honking continously as if the ill manered driver had some emergency…like a nature’s call to attend to…or his bladder wud burst. I thrusted the dh50 note to the cabby as he asked if he cud collect the balance from me the same evening - what a wonderful man! I was more that relieved to hear that. I thanked him as quickly gave his mobile number while fleeing the scene.

the meeting place was a café. The smiling bar-tender asked if he culd help. I ordered an american coffee with milk. And sank into one of the soft couches in the lounge. the newspapers display had a lady holding up a dirham note - a shop and save ad… and jerked back to the truth. I have no money on me. no dirhams!!!

the bar tender was already there - smiling behind a huge mug of the American coffee. I took it. Added the sugar. Stirred. Took sips one after the other. I felt better with the sudden rush of nicotine in to the blood.

thought of calling my husband to rescue me out of the café by paying the bill. But something stopped me from doing that. And there he come - the person i was waiting for -my interviewer. One look and I decided I did not want the job. we had a nice chat though. while he was walking me out of the café i saw the philippino bar tender smiling at me with the bill book. And I cud not help but instantly ask this interviewer if he could bail me out with 10bucks.

He was more than willing. The end.