We are going to be busy for a while...

...with THIS.


I know. It looks like a regular, run-of-the-mill gender biased, women minioritised  sort of a story. Or maybe like a Devil Wears Prada. But for some reason, I am expecting better. Anyhow, I've just paid 350 /- for this, it doesn't matter what direction this book flows in.

I had a lot many choices this time. There was a perfectly, absolutely, gripping, dark, thriller-suspense book that I came across, but I passed. And, another story of a family struggling through the Civil War. "Not right now," said my steaming cup of coffee. We need something light hearted, stereotypical and bordering senseless. Not that I am judging...this book by its cover. I am, actually.

Bah, in two days I shall be devouring this, with baked Lays. Cos I'm cool like that (also fat).

Lesseee....lessseeee  

Please, not now

There's a lot happening around me, but there's always an impatience. I feel like the weather of Delhi-moody, unpredictable, happy and grey.

Work is good, and responsibilities are double..... triple. Sometimes I feel like a winner- I'm "smack in the centre" of the journalism hub of India, I've managed to survive it all for more than a year, and I've done well. At other times, I feel I should call all of it quits and start doing something really creative. Like write a book or start shooting spoof movies (lucrative career option #332837). Or I should just completely switch my field. Should I go back to advertising, and give copy for products that mean nothing to me, nor the client, nor the audience? Should I become a theatre artist? How about I join a fashion photographer and become his assistant. Or. Not.

Today, is a good day. Its a....a day which isn't an everyday. That's one. I've been reading some seriously awesome articles which make me go "whoaaa" after EVERY DAMN READ. Which is again, awesome and awful. When exactly will I reach that stage when I will be able to write my own opinion column, and talk about issues that need to be talked about.

I'm hungry. I'm always hungry. Sometimes when I'm in my meditation class, I imagine eating food to calm my mind. I feel I'm in Big Chill and I'm dressing the pasta with Oregano and chilli flakes, and I'm readying myself to dig in. That. So relaxing. Best therapy.

More laterish.

Oh I'm so +ve

It's very unlike me to feel so positive, all the time. Its weird, and it's an emotion I can hardly keep up with. Anyhow, that's how we are right now, and that's how this post shall be.

There've been some 'ha'mazing discoveries on youtube, and I've found just the perfect way to use my free time, watching some great stand up comedians, doing their thanngg. Although, must I add, its difficult to keep a straight face in front of scowling 70-year-olds and 50 somethings passing by my work station after every mili second. They don't laugh at nothing. They are always angry and disapproving and they also have no business around my work space.

I bought three most amazing things, this weekend that made me very proud and very young. After being denied tickets for two consecutive shows for Amazing Spiderman, a friend and I walked around. And there, we saw something that made us shriek. Four rows of the best games, action figures and books. We spent maybe a total of 1.5 hours there, and came out with loaded bags. I bought a pack of Uno cards, a TRANSFORMER (sideswipe, thankyou) and...........JENGA!

 Of course, there were many who protested, smirked, poked and pointed at us, as we proudly displayed our buys on the round table in costa coffe. But the finger was duly given.

There are some official travel plans, to not a very amazing place, but yes, something is there. Next week seems slightly promising and there maybe some interesting things to look forward to.

Incidentally, I chanced upon this, and my world changed. http://f-o-o-d-p-o-r-n.tumblr.com/ now my hunger is insatiable. If this food can be cooked by any good man or woman, I will be their servant for life...(Kind of).

I've been reading up on aliens and various theories related to them, during my free time, at home. Its QUITE intriguing and slightly scary.

For now I shall sign off and get down to work. More awesomeness later, and be happy all ye faalooowwsss!

Sunday no more a Sunday

bikhre toote tukde, saare jud rahe hain dheere dheere haule haule..
betuke se sur wo saare mil rahe hain, dheere dheere haule haule..aaine ka dhundhla chehra khel raha dheere dheere haule haule..

nanhi si ek jaan ne apna bachpan khoya
khauf ki maili chaadar odh ke soya
bebas akela bezubaan chupchap roya
barson se ye behte aansoo tham rahe hain dheere dheere haule haule
khul rahi aankhein jo ab tak nam rahi hain, dheere dheere haule haule
aaine ka dhundhla chehra khel raha dheere dheere haule haule..


If I may say so, yes, I am an admirer and a supporter. I don't want to see the rolling millions and the commercial brilliance, of this show. All I want to see, discuss and debate over are the issues that remain, tragically, stagnant. Think about it. Female foeticide, dowry, child abuse. We've been reading, watching, hearing and witnessing them for aeons. But when we watch a re-run of the same old issues once again,  the weight of the reality comes crashing down on us like an iron ball. Here, there is no blaming or pointing fingers and naming. Here, they talk of solutions and facts. I like that. I like that, once again, Sunday mornings have become important days that get a family together, to watch and learn, of what is hidden behind the everyday hub-a-dub.

I remember, as a kid, every weekend was spent in the matchbox flats of the Saket DDA colony, where my grandparents stayed. I was welcomed by the religious curry rice cooking of my dadi and the smell of a freshly opened pack of cigars, that my grandad inaugurated, to signal that the weekend had begun. Sunday mornings, my brother and I were woken up early, and sent for a shower, because we had to get ready to watch 'Aap ki adalat', with the entire family. We would crouch beside my granddad on the floor mattress, with our cereal bowls in hand, and watch wide-eyed and confused, a pseudo court room session on TV. A half-bald-bispectacled man would, in short, be royally taking someone’s ass, and that someone, would generally be a known-household name. My granddad and dad would share a smirk and my mom and dad would 'tut-tut' with worried expressions. My brother, perhaps pretended to understand what was going on and would accompany the studio audience when they got the cue to laugh. I would just be confused, wondering why I wasn't allowed to play outside. However, even then, at that young age, in my state of absolute cluelessness, I still knew, Sundays' were important. The half-bald-bispectacled man was doing the right thing by asking cheeky questions and making people sweat. Everyone would would be pleased watching when the accused going to pieces. But in the end, for some strange reason, the judge would clear the person of all charges and end the show.

Not exactly, but I kind of get a strange nostalgia, as I wait for Satyamev Jayate, every Sunday at 11 AM, and think of my late grandfather. He would definitely watch this programme too, religiously, wearing his trademark white kurta-pajama, and watch the programme intently without a word, slowly smoking his freshly opened pack of cigars and make no comment before or after the show.

I've put up a link of a song sung on the second episode of the show. It has the most beautiful and simple melody and soulful lyrics.

I know this show could be one of those, that come, make an impact and go, and along with it, goes the ignited spirits and motivated actions. But for now, what I see, what I hear and what I learn is more than I thought was possible through a commercially designed social-awareness show.

Kudos to Aamir Khan and a salute to all the survivors who talk about their lives. I know this sounds cheesy, but what the heck. Satyamev Jayate!

It's a Thursday

It’s chronic restlessness that I feel all the time. No, it wasn’t the constant leg shaking, nail biting, teeth grinding that gave it away. It was actually the perpetual ill health on Thursdays that was an alarm bell. For one, the bad health is mostly a concocted one, that stems from boredom and a sudden lack of monstrous work.  I’m sick, though not physically. I’m sick, psychologically. After the ritualistic slogging throughout the week, Thursday’s, that promise lighter ‘times’, actually, make me nervous.

Let’s put it this way –I need to be busy. It’s an addiction now. When I can see and feel the clean black wood shining bright on my table, and my desktop clear and the blue-green sea wallpaper smiling sleepily at me, I gasp for breath.

Yup, some –‘coholism’ this surely is.

MIA-No More

So take up your makeup

And pocket your pills away.

We're kings among runaways

On the bus mall.

We're down

On the bus mall.

-The Decemberists

As I type this out, I see some really bizzare pictures scrolling on their own accord on the indiatimes site. There's something here about Shilpa Shetty's baby shower (wait! She was pregnant?!), Shahrukh Khan with daughter Suhana (is he still suffering for removing Ganguly from his team?), and some nude woman's photo shoot (who're you again?), Malaika Arora looking really bloated (pity), KS Ravikumar's daughters wedding (how'd they get hold of her wedding album?).....its going on, I can't sit through this anymore. Oh, for the uninitiated, you should know, indiatimes is possibly the worst site ever made by any brand.

Coming back to the Times of my life, both inside and outside. Let's just say, end of April and begining of May has been relatively eventful. There's been a short trip, there have been trips made by friends, there has been peace, there's been a little promotion, there has been a marginal appraisal, there have been sincere career misgivings, there has been lots of work and a small stint opportunity in the glam world which was dutifully rejected.

Anywhooo. Let's bullet this, shall we?:

1. Rudy's visit this time, was like Dilli Darshan. All directions, every corner, four days in 8 plates, we skimmed the city like a pair of wide-eyed tourists.

2.  I read this brilliant book called 'I know this much is true', recommended by a friend. Honestly, its review and cover, when I saw online, were slightly over-the-top  and extremely dark. Not that the book wasn't it. It was. It was bleak, depressing and emotionally, a really heavy read. But you know what. There are two kinds of dark. One is repulsive, the kind that pulls you down. And the other is one, that in a mysterious way, actually, ignites hope and leaves you teary and, yes, happy. This one's the latter.

3. Haridwar and rishikesh happened, and much joy and happiness and peace followed. I sat by the Ganga, at this isolated place, behind a not-known ashram. Just me and the river. If you just watch the fast current and emmerse your feet in the ice-cold water which seems to have just freshly melted from the glaciers, you get a brain freeze. But it's an enjoyable one. You're thoughtless, for all the while that you sit by the river. At the cost of sounding like an eccentric, orange- robed, all-knowing sadhu, that Ganga has something very unique about it. I don't know exactly what it is.

4. Weird-golden haired-frog look-alike takes the same Metro as me, in the morning. Once she pointed her finger at me, with her eyes bulging and in a thunderous voice said something that sounded like a prediction, "You work in BCCL." I didn't know if it was a statement or a prediction. I nodded. She then continued with her prediction-like voice, "Share the auto with me." And I said, "er..no? I prefer walking to office." After which she continued to stare at me like I was mad, with her eyes bulging out more. It costs 15 rs, really. Did I really turn down a great money sharing offer that would slash our budgets to half? I think not. Anyhow. She still stares at me, maybe she's punishing me in her mind. How can anyone in the world turn down such a great auto-sharing offer, she thinks.

5. Peeking continues, and all chats, mails, messages, are still read. Sometimes commented upon.

There could be more points here, but there aren't. Simply because, this isn't twitter or facebook, and I cannot possibly make it seem thrilling and exciting. That's it. Signing off.

Love.

Happpyy newwwyyyeeeeerrrr

*Tadaaaaa...dummmm...DIIISHHhhhhh*

And happy it was, the New Year :) Also, overly eventful and extremely dramatic. Now when I think back on those five days, it's like a stop motion film in my head. Starting from running at T3 to catch our flight after the final boarding announcement. Everyone laughed, giggled and pointed at the two girls who were literally strutting around the airport initially, now dashing across rows and rows of seats. And then these girls ran clumsily with their bags slung over their backs, their hair flying and they cursing, very audibly. Hotness said we'd probably already ruined our impression on the hot male stewards on Kingfisher flight. We'd probably be stared at by EVERYONE present on the flight. And we could just forget buying that awesome big jute hat we saw at Mango ON SALE. Then came the meetings, the more meetings, the chugging the chewing, the hollering the hearing the fits and the fights and the awaited new year bash which seemed never ending till the shots took effect.

I'm back and I'm cold. I'm cold because I'm back to bullying myself to do what I do everyday. I'm cold because I don't have an awesome, dramatic and page 3 life anymore. I am cold because I want to continue to eat out. And yes, I am cold because it IS BLOODY COLD IN DELHI. It's some 3 degrees today, no kidding. I feel I'm on a constant brain freeze because it's so cold.

Anyhow. Buffy, now famously called 'fifi' by my maid, has his birthday tomorrow. He will be 17 years old. Nope, he's not graying, he's not any more senile than he already was and he still looks like a dashing young fur ball. Yes, that's right.

So that's all for now. More to come later.

All the love and all that jazz.

There's A Whole Lot Of Lot

Yup, there is. I've been fidgity, restless and mostly bored. Hence, I needed to channel my energies to avoid being engulfed by ennuie since I'm bordering scared of knowing either- a) I have nothing to do or b) whatever I do, bores me. I've been busy yes, but I need to be happy busy. And so I put my credit card at work. I've been reading like a famished, uncontroable, sickeningly crazy book worm. I might've eaten bits of the stray pages too (don't new books smell so edible? No wait, old books smell even better..either way they're all delicious).

Apart from that, music, that I had been not keeping up with, finally decided to keep up with me. Dewarists attracted me as a screenshot on facebook, with the face of Monika Dogra, from Shair and func, which I happen to like. Curiosity made me want to watch the entire link. I was amazed, and I ended up watching the entire season of Dewarists. I'm badly hung over them, oh yes. The two tracks that are just unbelievable are the ones made by Shri, Monika and Rajasthan roots. Also, Agni, Saumya Rao and Parikrima. Sonam sir went completely ballistic on the guitar. I remember meeting him long back for a college documentary we were making. We were so silly to have interviewd him by asking him lame questions like, "What is music to you, how much do you enjoy playing the guitar," etc. I mean, watch him play it, and you'll feel like that isn't even an act, a hobby, a skill. Music is his second nature. How stupid of us. Some people said the Dewarists are better than Coke studio. I agreed too, but then I went back to Coke, just to be sure, and I am back tracking from what I said. Leslie might've screwed up Coke Studio towards the end, but the music they've made over time, is really, quite, QUITE nice.

Christmas is just two days away. This year, surprisingly, I have no plans. What I do plan to do, however, is to decorate the underfed, more twigs-less leaves, sad christmas tree look-alike at home, just to be in tune with the spirit of the festival. I remember at school, we used to be taught all the Christmas Carols. All of them. Jingle bells, Silent night, Three kings, Away in a manger, Rudolph the red nose reigndeer, etc. Practice after practice after practice later, we'd be sick of singing them. The teachers would scream and pinch us if we went out of tune. That's why, we loved singing Rudolph. Why? Because of the line- "Then all the reigndeers loved him, and they shouted out with glee, YIPEEE". And at the 'yipee' part, we'd go out of control, scream our lungs out, and make it a stretched line. That's why the music teachers hardly made us practice Rudolph. Ever.


I'm off to Bombay for New Year  and what a truly happy feeling it is. The only thing I've been looking forward to for the past....2 months.

Anyway, more later. Work calls.


Love.

SOCOOL

So its' one of those fail monday mornings. You know, one of those when you reach office and think of all the important things you could've done instead of coming to work. And then you feel that the morning is a bigger fail because of all the things you could've done, were quite possible, if you had the no-guilt syndrome of taking unnecessary leaves. And then you feel like an even bigger fail because you realise that the people around you, well, they go ahead and do what their early Monday morning mind tells them to do.

Then there are the smaller, less consequential feelings of feeling the days's a fail because you find yourself relatively free. And so you decide to catch up with friends on gtalk.  But what happens is that, a) either they're too busy soaking themselves in the monday morning blues, which is to say, they're on a cribbing spree, which you don't want to hear about because, your day is already a fail, or b) they want to talk about things you definitely don't want to talk about and vise-versa, or c) they deliberately try not to laugh at your AWESOME jokes, because, they're probably not as awesome, or, its just a fail day d) they answer every question with the youtube link, which they KNOW won't open on your P.

Anyway, we were talking about how fail a day can be. Fail it is. Fail fail fail. You know how annoying it can be with someone peeks into your screen and comments? Or when you open your blog and see recent updates by people that are so fail. Or when you go to the wash room and find it infested with faces powered with white paint and your way through the crowd of bimbets and wash your hands, while rolling your eyes, listening to their negatively graphed intellectual conversations.

Fail morning. You know what also really fail? When you put up a status that says something personal like, "miss my life!" Or, "my eyes feel scratchy" and some moron you've never spoken to asks you "whyyyyy?" Or "vaaat you mean", when that status really wasn't for them. What's also fail is when some attention-seeking-jobless-idiot puts a facebook status saying, "I'm so saaaaaaaaaad! I'm so lonelyyyyy even though I only have some 2538 friends on my fb list and I'm a party animalhhhh I'm so saaaaad" and some equally attention giving-jobless-idiot will comment on it saying "oooh don't worry, I am there na! Please don't be sad. Heart".

Sofail. I have many more things to say this fail morning. But I've got to get back to work and such like.
More later.

The Daily Riff Raff

To begin with, they all wrote off Ra. One. Yes, they all thought it was a piece of trash, copied, duplicated, influenced and all of it, unsuccessfully. To all that I say-SURE. I know I’ve seen Spy Kids, Demolition Man, Terminator, Iron Man, He Man, Hanu Man, etc. However, this guy, this man, Shahrukh. He still makes me skip a beat, blue eyed or not, ra one’d or not. And till the time that skipping continues, I shall remain faithful. And I shall also whistle, scream and hoot in the hall, even if no one gives me company (as happened recently). Who cares. Who care who cares I say. Who cares, traaa laa laa laa…

Coming back to life. I’ve realized something, over ten months. Actually, two things. One. Life is nothing without work. And the moment your work becomes your life, you have no life. So basically. The two have a symbiotic-cum-parasitic relationship. One must die to let the other live. Kind of like Harry Potter and Voldermort. “Neither can live while the other survives.”

Secondly, when it comes to books, nothing and I repeat, nothing can beat the classics. I mean, seriously. Can you imagine how these writers came up with a Rhett Butler, Howard Roak, and Heathcliff, in those times. These are the creations of a fertile, creative and non-confirmist mind. Today, as I read more and more contemporary literature, I realize, that no matter how gripping, exciting and over-whelming the plot may be, my association, lingering memory is always latched to characters. For example, when I think of ‘The Quiet american’, by Graham Greene  more than the Vietnam war and the Third party controversies, I think of  Thomas Folwer, his cynicism, his ideologies and his  non-challance. Either the latest books have some fundamental problem with weaving the plot with the personalities, or they’re too busy telling a story. And this format, has me lost and distracted. Ofcourse, not every author is not worth all the fame, there are some. But let’s just say. If I walk into a library (virtual or real), I will invariably walk into the moldy, rusting section of the books long forgotten.

New year is round the corner and plans are all up in the air. Let’s hope this new year too, turns out to be as good, or better as the previous year. For now, there’s a piling stack of unending work glaring at me. I must battle with it. I must win, and I must win fast (before 7 PM, atleast).

For later, tchus

Athithi kab jaoge, seriously!

OMG, I just found this unpublished post in my old drafts. Sigh. Brings back memories


I hate unwanted guests, who land up without informing. Period. No point being diplomatic about it. I detest it. And I'll probably not entertain you, so you will eventually have to show yourself the door. And leave. Vanish. Pooof!

So we're more than just 4 people in this PG, I realized. And that's not a very happy thought. Because our unwanted guest is A. Devoid of all any etiquette B. Cursed with a huge appetite. C. Fat. D. Stnky E.Slimy F. Pro at hide and seek.

So this fat, rat of a thing would scamper around the house when you're least expecting to see a huge black blob whizzing past you when you're getting ready to go somewhere. Has found the perfect hide out, which we have been unable to trace. Ate my potatoe which was being used to hold up the incense sticks. Shat on my room mates thaple (gujrati roti's). The deification was done in a very precise manner too, mind. 'Smack' in the middle. We let out an "eww", in unison, I remember. For the longest time I thought our PG was haunted, when I saw my stuff missing or brutally chewed on, since there never was any sign of another human or animal existence.And it used to give me the chills. And nightmares. It used to frustrate me to no end. "I'd rather have that, than this. An unknown ghost is truly better than this known devil," I thought.

Funnily, though, now. This activity has been going on for some time. So much so, that we needed to name.. "it"... Raju, he was christianed. And Raju has become an important part of our daily dictionary. Our PG life. An equal party to all the going on's, and ofcourse, has equal authority over our food. He believes, truly, in sharing. We share our food, he shares his shit. We share our room, he shares his...never mind. A symbiotic relationship, has thus emerged.

Raju, however, will have to leave, some day. Maybe he'll just grow old, and die a normal death. Or take his adventures and travels to new destinations, plunder other rooms and lives. Who knows.

P.S- I remember Raju having left us right after this post was written. Maybe he found a new home, maybe he was literate and was deeply hurt. Maybe he died, maybe he vanished. All we know is that his (over)stay left us deeply moved and affected our lives to a great/grave extent.

Keralafornication...

Hellouu. I wish we could re-do the map of India. So Delhi and Mumbai could be neighbours. And Kerala could be a weekend get away. Perfect, right?

This is where I recently was. And while I was in the land of green, green and more green, spices, water, boats and fish, I did not want to belong to the north. What an easy snap-off from my daily life and identity. South is so wonderfully unbelieveable. There were other things that gave the view company, however. A magical marriage, family time and my photography (ameature), all in the disctict of Kottyam.

When a Hindu weds a Christian, one of two things can happen. You are either confused, lost and blank, and disapproving. Or, you become an intrigued and smiling spectator, who isn't wary of the 'new'. We comprise the latter, ofcourse. The service wraped up in precisely two hours. And while the Priest spoke about their religion with some scattered undercurrents of cynosure for their religion, we were mesmerised and also, inspired. We do miss some eloquence in our wedding rituals, which after a point seem like a drone that inflicts distraction. For now, this is the first cultural mesh resulting in a wedlock. Let's see if we have more of those to come in the future. Seven more cousins remain unmarried. :)

We sailed over the unnaturally silent Back Waters. No bobbing heads, no humans seemed to be inside the great waters. The shores were, however, decorated with dream-like houses and the susurrous wind gave us company, for all four hours.

I'm glad dad decided to take the night flight to Delhi. We were off to Kochi for the day, a place that definitely should not be missed, if you step foot in the sands of Kerala. The entire city, especially Fort Kochi has very obvious and striking relics of being born during the Portuguese time. Rain never stops and the trees seem to have grown to wild heights and in wilder shapes. Fort Kochi has four famous places to see- A church, a temple, a mosque and also, a synagogue. How religiously alive that place is. Our driver seemed to be re-living his city too. At regular intervals, he'd tell me "foootoo madam....footoo."

I'm back to the grind and the word 'grind' is just so apt. The increasing files, stories and products are non-exhaustive. I know I need another vacation. I am planning one, yes :) It's all a maybe though.

So that's the update for now.

later!

Love

The Month that IS

The last month sort of faded away, almost like a hazy-whiz that zoomed past with pages, filing, editing, writing, co-ordination, calls, stress and ofcourse, money. I was looking forward to August, and July, very gracefully and silently closed its chapter.

This month started with a series of good events, which I won't list down explicitly, but it just made me feel great about myself and with the world at large. Let's also just edge slightly towards humbly accepting that the situations and events around me seem promising, and may have a longer life-span than I would've thought.

I'm glad I chose this profession. Atleast it seems like one of the gates towards my career tunnel of light. I'm even more pleased with some of the significant decisions I made and people I chose to be around, in the past one year. Honestly, it's better if you can count the number of people who matter to you and vise-versa, than having an endless list of inconsequential people.

I went back to my hometown this weekend, to meet my over-hyper family. As J and T put it, "We're a weird family, but we can be addictive, together." The four sisters met and it was a riot. There was a lot of noise, cheesy one liners, unnecessary gossip and adjectives for each being thrown around the house, throughout the two days. How I love it. My family's mad, and even though the over excitement and drama can get a bit overwhelming for a stranger, I'm still happy with the way we are.

This is a picture I took on my way to Jaipur. Delhi-Jaipur drive is beautiful. Although, right now is not a very good time. The entire road has been dug up; numerous pot holes with humongous mouths are ready to be ridden over, so they can splash their stored water on you and smirk. It's been years and years since I've been going to Jaipur, and everytime we drive there, I wish we could stop and go a bit of rock climbing. Never happens. We don't stop to even chance a run in the open fields.

More later.

Love. 

Clickety-click(s)

Let's begin with a little blast from the past

Photos: Ria Bhatnagar

The first two pictures are our scribblings at Ghetto. A place that most don't like because of it's rather OTT set-up, with the neon lights, walls full of random writings, loud music, etc. I loved it, though. I loved the place. I loved not being able to see faces, except when one decided to smile and you got knocked off by the lights reflecting back from their teeth. I thought it was hilarious. I loved how they had personalised the entire place, with the walls open to be scribbled on, so everytime I went there, I'd spend ages trying to find my writings, squeezed in some corner, mostly over-written on. I liked that it was close to my work place, hence, the perfect place to rush to, after a hard days work. I liked the stools at the bar too, though I never sat on them. The pool table at the side, where I never played. I remember spending my first salary there, however, feeling so liberated and proud. My handwriting is horrendeous, which is why I won't be able to completely decrypt that lines of the second picture. The first picture's drawing is done by hotness. The third picture is of Blackie, when we were riding home in an empty bus, from Worli to Bandra, and Blackie was being her usual grumpy self. We decided taking sly pictures of her was the best thing to do. Oh, and also, to laugh behind her back, loud enough for her to hear and come around :) 

Yep, that's us.

Anyhow. This weekend was good. There was a photoshoot for a Times magazine. While the pretty models turned gorgeous inside the lenses, I hung around, behind the abominable looking lights,. It's an art, when you slide the glam and glitz away. Getting the right angle, the perfect expression, timing, clolurs, lights, etc. Infact, there is so much that goes on behind the camera, that the world in front of it, seems a little dull, and surprisingly, seems to lack lusture. Behind the lens, it's more colourful!

The wedding month has almost  begun. I'm, really REALLY looking forward to a nice vacation (of 3 days :P) and some fun time with family.

This month is going to be good, I can feel it. :)

later!

HARRY POTTER - it's never over

Obviously, like the title screams and all my facebook posts suggest, I've seen Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Part 2). It's been 10 years since I've been a potter fan. TEN years. Nothing in my life has lived to be that constant- neither interests, nor hobbies, nor schools, not even my looks. Harry Potter has. Yesterday, after the movie got over, Rudy said, "Now what are you going to do? Harry Potter is over, nothing to look forward to." And I told him, "I'm going to read the books again, what else! That way, Harry Potter never dies, and is never over." Yeah, I've read each book atleast 15-17 times. So much so, in most movies, I could tell I already knew half the dialogues, cos I was so thorough with the books. I've never been so helplessly addicted, never been so horribly dependent on any book to keep me entertained and maintain an interest level that spans over a decade. A DECADE. Wow, that sounds weird. Inside the Potter world, I don't think I've grown up at all. And when I say grown up, I mean a state which is defined to be in proportional relation with getting 'over' things, fixations, and addictions as the number of years increase. When I picked up the first book, I was a little over 11. So was Harry. And since then, we grew up together. But me and neither did the Potter world grow out of the magical cocoon we were so comfortable in. I've never been embarrassed to admit that I still read Harry Potter. Well, maybe yes, of what I have 'grown out' of, is the squeamishness related to being old, and still being a Potter fan. I am one, and I say it as much.

The movie was more than just a 2 hour show of effects that zoomed across the 'reel' boundaries and came charging towards our fascinated faces, or the -wham-bam-show of curses and magical blood strewn over the black screen. It wasn't even seeing the characters walloping in sorrow and drowning in the world drenched with dark activities and defeat. It was the end of a part of me, when it comes to watching the book become a relatively tangible reality. The book and the characters still live inside the pages of black and white. The world of moving frames is, however, over. I was sitting with baited breath, my nails sinking deeper and deeper inside the huge Big Cinema's chair, waiting for the real WAR to begin. The three greatest characters that have ever lived were all going to be wiped off from the screens forever- Dumbledore, Snape and Voldermort.

The war was epic. The directorial choices for all the major characters were excellent, seeing them fitting their characters with a brilliant ease and conviction. Seeing Snape, for the first time, in a position which was vulnerable and pitiable, and his final end, was something that, even I was stunned watching. I remember after reading the second book, I was thoroughly convinced that Snape was a good man. I even remember defending him on various fan sites. :P The guy was so convincingly dark and yet had serious  undertones that suggested not. Voldermort was more dangerous than ever, although, far more scared and insecure.

The hall was charged with energy and excitement, you could almost taste it. When Neville slashed Nagini's head with one swing of the Griffindor sword, and its head went spinning across the dark screen, the hall erupted, and the clapping was deafening. When Mrs Weasly wheeled around, seeing Bellatrix Lestrange shooting a curse at Ginny, she screamed, “Not my daughter, you BITCH," showered a series of red, green and blue sparks at that maniacal Bellatrix, who finally got hit and crumbled in the most melodramatic manner, the hall was full of screams again. I was so excited, I might've cried a little. When the movie got over, I started clapping, and the hall followed suit (HAH!).

I'll never be completely over the books, or even the movies, I know.  It's not everyday you see a cinematic masterpiece of classic literature of wonderfully and powerfully woven into fantastic movie adventures in 7 films that complete one saga that will never be forgotten.

Weekday

Goodmorrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnning DELHI (in a very and I assert, VERY un-Vidhya Balan way). I thought I'd make a quick update here, before I get down to working.

I watched Delhi belly on saturday. What a KICKASS movie, I must say. The best part being, it was commercial cinema, alright, but made in the most non-commerical, almost parallel cinema-ish fashion. No interval, 2 hours, no songs, very natural, great humor, and fantastic acting. Esp the fat one who's digestion was mostly the main plot, running throughout the movie. All in all, good fun, great time spent.

There is a family wedding coming up, next month, which is going to take us all across the country, right to the land that apparently God calls his own. I'm excited, yes, and I really hope we can make a quick tour to the hill station Munar. I'm not much of a beach person, you know. Munar is beautiful with sprawling tea gardens, through which I can run , and sing a random bollywood number and feel I have achieved something out of the trip. Also, a christian wedding is not something us Hindu's get to see very often. A hindu-christian wedding is going to be so wonderfully confused and mixed up, with some vows here and a bit of pooja there, in Mr. Burns words, I'd say "Aaaaaeeexxcellent".

I've been very interested in tarrot, palmistry and astrology recently. And I make sure I always get it done by someone who is NOT a pro. Why? because people who are professionals are always scary. They just have that all-knowing look, look at you like your life is ending and they are just full of bad news. Every predication has a "but" clause to it, whether good or bad. "YOU are going to be RICH!"...and just when the person is ready to feel great, comes the "BUT, only when you are ninety" *fake grin and the all knowing nod*. Then there's "YOU are going to DIE", and when the person is about it break down and tear his clothes and hair comes the "BUT, it'll be painless",*fake grin and the all knowing nod*. So, we're better off with those who don't know their elbow from their ass and are just predicting for the fun of it.


Well, that's it for now. More to come, very soon

P.S- Can't WAIT for weekend :D

A Little Bit of Nothing At All

I like this template. It's colourful, it's bright and it makes me want to keep openinig my blog page to see how it looks.

I've been cooking, lately. Nothing heavy-duty. Just desserts. So I bought a cookbook by Asha Khatu (who has been the field of gourmet vegetarian cooking for 20 years) called Delectable Desserts of the World. It's pretty interesting. I started with the simplest dish, called 'Brownie Pie.' I started a little apprehensive, thought I'd just end up making a disaster, the house would be on fire, we'd all die, etc etc. However, as luck and the precious and generous oven would have it, I could smell something promising after 5 mins of baking. I knew we had a winner.

It might not LOOK like a winner, okay. I had to make them into these small....balls, becuase they weren't very sticky and were falling to pieces when I started scraping them out of the container.

No jokes will be entertained on its presentation, kindly. It tastes delicious, let me assure you.
Here it is :)

THIS is why Delhi has no comparison

Around the city, while I walk about, I see things that make me smile and whisper under my breath, " Sigh....DELHI."

No I don't hate the city, no I don't love it. It's very typical and that's what sets it apart.
Anyway, here are some pictures you'll like (or dislike) viewing. In any case, this is what I call a REAL show

That was outside a paan shop. Pretty interesting, huh ;)

Here are two classic pictures, that everyone has seen, zipping on the roads of the capital.



WOW.

....aaannndd here's another one



<3

Last but definitely not the least
Seen in a public toilet


Favorite

Fun, right? That's what I thought.
Stay tuned in for more of these...soon.

All the love
:)

Promise You Will Resume Work

Rudy says he was made to tease us. How true is that.

I've been thinking of getting new pets. A guinea pig, a hamster, and a turtle. Ofcourse, it won't be allowed. But imagine what a riot that would be.

Till then, I shall watch this one and feel miserable. And happy. It's a cute overload that I cannot possibly take.

Thankyou animation and cartoons. You make the world a really magical place :)

Zzzzzz...

                                                         photo credits: Aditi Sharma

Just bury your head into a deep dark world,
and forget that needs to be forgotten.

Sleep away, sleep away,
just sleep away like a headless chicken.