Just watched Sex and the City (the movie... not the series!)... yes, two years too late since I don't believe in indulging in movies/books etc. until the hype dies down. I feel that's the best way one can judge them impartially... (strange, I've used the words judge and impartial in a sentence which revolves around forming one's opinion, a highly subjective, personal exercise in itself... but then, contradictions have ALWAYS been my forte!)
Anyways, getting right back on track, I watched the movie on my laptop while munching on dinner... the whole film is centred around two things (and this has been accurately mentioned in the intro to the movie)- labels and love (in no particular order)... have quite a few unrelated thoughts floating in my mind post-watching this film...
~ I DO like designer labels... it makes me wonder how people can aspire to spend my annual CTC worth of moolah on a pair of manolo blahniks or an isaac mizrahi outfit... what if someone were to gift either one of those to me... I would be sleepless for months just wondering how best to showcase the sacred piece of art on myself, plus NOTHING I own currently would "work it"... this is probably why I heart my levi's and my big floppy benetton sweatshirt more than a pair of jimmy choos I saw online! It's highly intimidating to know 97.915% of your wardrobe feels ignored due to the remaining (100-97.915%... you do the math)!
~ I DO like chic flicks... like every other girl who's honest enough to admit this! I LIKE the weepy background score during heartbreak, I smile when the female protagonist gets her miraculous makeover and I absorb what the vamp/bitch is wearing and how her hair looks throughout the running of the movie
~ I DO believe I'm a romantic... yes indeed... here I am, shamelessly admitting it on the world wide web. I pride myself in logical-balanced-kinda-behaviour. Yes, I've had countless impulsive moments (hello, logical does NOT equal boring!). At the same time, I turn stoic at public proclamations of love and affection. The insecurity of failure hampers me from diving right into the exciting, careless tambourine of mad-love... I try each day to shake the inhibitions off and get a little bit more open to the possibility of long-term love... the OTHER "F" word that will connect two people with eternal bond... the forever...
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
search...
Now is the transition... the time between "what's done is done" and "what am I getting myself into"... between the past n the future... this is where I stand today! All the horrible feelings about work have to be erased and I need to start afresh, with a clear mind and brimming optimism.... why don't I feel the optimism? It isn't like I sense impending doom because I KNOW I haven't made a wrong decision... yes, it's a plunge, and quite a risky one at that, but it's a measured risk...it's what I WANT to do... then why can't I relax now?
The umbilical cord from the old organization is not fully severed... I need to distance myself and utilize this time to work my thoughts out... get back to the relentless positivity, the enthusiasm and the fearless self-belief that it will be fantastic. That conquering confidence has been long submerged under the hesitation, under the disbelieving middle-aged, pot-bellied, amused glare, under the stereotypes that I forced myself to be boxed into... the confidence shimmered, shook and faded... how do I get it back? Perhaps it hasn't escaped yet, just hidden until positivity pries it out in the open again...
This is the first step in the what-I-want-to-do direction, fighting what fate sent my way & disregarding the comforts of my earlier way of life... I can't wait for it to begin, I can't wait for pride to emerge...
The umbilical cord from the old organization is not fully severed... I need to distance myself and utilize this time to work my thoughts out... get back to the relentless positivity, the enthusiasm and the fearless self-belief that it will be fantastic. That conquering confidence has been long submerged under the hesitation, under the disbelieving middle-aged, pot-bellied, amused glare, under the stereotypes that I forced myself to be boxed into... the confidence shimmered, shook and faded... how do I get it back? Perhaps it hasn't escaped yet, just hidden until positivity pries it out in the open again...
This is the first step in the what-I-want-to-do direction, fighting what fate sent my way & disregarding the comforts of my earlier way of life... I can't wait for it to begin, I can't wait for pride to emerge...
Saturday, August 15, 2009
sorting out...
Been awhile since I logged in... trying to sort my life out... finding my inner peace and calm (or at least reducing the anger fits!)... either trying to love my job or find a better one... went on a couple of road trips... one that involved white water rafting, camping and some strange people... another that was all-girls, closest friends from college, no kajal, getting high in the mountains and eating the whole hill station's stash of food supplies :)
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Military monkey-business~
A popular childhood tale comes to mind...once upon a time, two otters caught a fish from the river together. They divided it, unfortunately, in seemingly uneven "halves". An argument broke out on who deserves the bigger part of the fish. A monkey, seated on the tree, watched the argument with avid interest planning out his noon fiesta. He intervened as an impartial party who would best be able to divide the fish equally amongst the fighting otters. Taking a giant bite from the bigger part, he made it smaller than the other part, and consequently chewed off a huge chunk of the second part as well. While the otters waited for the clever monkey to even out their fish, he alternatively "attempted to equalize" both parts and in doing so hogged the fish on his own. The otters stood there watching helplessly, while the monkey filled up his belly on account of their feuding nature.
Analogy- the seemingly endless political turmoil in Pakistan.
Politics amongst the civil parties in Pakistan is akin to the Ludhiana family hosiery business. At the turn of the 90s, two major political leaders emerged with their families to try their hand at leading the nation- Benazir Bhutto (ever since the failure of her ex-PM-husband Asif Ali Zardari) and Nawaz Sharif. The two otters. Each ruled as PM for a few inconsequential years while the opposition tried their hardest (in ways moral as well as immoral) to pull down the ruling party. Now, this holds true for any civilian government of the world- it's pretty much the agenda of the opposition party to find flaws, ensure accountability and even throw chappals and rotten fruits to bring the attention of the ruling government on issues, problems and concerns (real or imaginary).
However, in Pakistan, the dynamics are vastly different. The military is known for its paternal calling to keep the country "under control". It is known for its "timely interventions" to seize power from warring civilian parties and rule with an iron fist...Gen'ls Musharraf, Zia-ul-Haq, Yahya Khan, Ayub Khan...
Each time, the army has taken advantage of the precariously positioned political parties and munched on a little bit more of the fish, lying right under the raging noses of the Pakistan Muslim's League and the Pakistan Peoples Party. Now Gen'l Ashfaq Kiyani doesn't mind claiming his rightful place as the "saviour" of the tottering nation, despite the bitter after-taste in the collective military mouths post-Musharraf's catastrophic exit.
Well, in this little twisted tale, the otters started to seem just a dash smarter. They joined forces to bring down the army rule in the past. The Nawaz-Bhutto coalition took place to form one unified civilian party... and then it broke, leaving the military to pick up where it left off again, chewing hungrily at the fish...the very soul of the nation... little by little...
Oddly, the popular Oasis song of the very same title is apt here...
The only way stability will come to the fore in these troubled times in Pakistan will be if the people forget their fanatic issues and regionalism to wake up and scream out the lyrics at all the ravenous creatures involved...
"Cos little by little
We gave you everything
You ever dreamed of
Little by little
The wheels of your life
Have slowly fallen off
Little by little
You have to give it all in all your life
And all the time
I just ask myself why
You're really here"
Analogy- the seemingly endless political turmoil in Pakistan.
Politics amongst the civil parties in Pakistan is akin to the Ludhiana family hosiery business. At the turn of the 90s, two major political leaders emerged with their families to try their hand at leading the nation- Benazir Bhutto (ever since the failure of her ex-PM-husband Asif Ali Zardari) and Nawaz Sharif. The two otters. Each ruled as PM for a few inconsequential years while the opposition tried their hardest (in ways moral as well as immoral) to pull down the ruling party. Now, this holds true for any civilian government of the world- it's pretty much the agenda of the opposition party to find flaws, ensure accountability and even throw chappals and rotten fruits to bring the attention of the ruling government on issues, problems and concerns (real or imaginary).
However, in Pakistan, the dynamics are vastly different. The military is known for its paternal calling to keep the country "under control". It is known for its "timely interventions" to seize power from warring civilian parties and rule with an iron fist...Gen'ls Musharraf, Zia-ul-Haq, Yahya Khan, Ayub Khan...
Each time, the army has taken advantage of the precariously positioned political parties and munched on a little bit more of the fish, lying right under the raging noses of the Pakistan Muslim's League and the Pakistan Peoples Party. Now Gen'l Ashfaq Kiyani doesn't mind claiming his rightful place as the "saviour" of the tottering nation, despite the bitter after-taste in the collective military mouths post-Musharraf's catastrophic exit.
Well, in this little twisted tale, the otters started to seem just a dash smarter. They joined forces to bring down the army rule in the past. The Nawaz-Bhutto coalition took place to form one unified civilian party... and then it broke, leaving the military to pick up where it left off again, chewing hungrily at the fish...the very soul of the nation... little by little...
Oddly, the popular Oasis song of the very same title is apt here...
The only way stability will come to the fore in these troubled times in Pakistan will be if the people forget their fanatic issues and regionalism to wake up and scream out the lyrics at all the ravenous creatures involved...
"Cos little by little
We gave you everything
You ever dreamed of
Little by little
The wheels of your life
Have slowly fallen off
Little by little
You have to give it all in all your life
And all the time
I just ask myself why
You're really here"
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
holi crap!
No... I harbour no ill-will towards this festival... in fact, I really enjoy all the madness that is acceptable at Holi... 'crap' just connotes what goes on in my head after a generous dosage of alcohol/bhaang/excessive beer flowing down from my multi-coloured hair while playing Holi!
Holi is the day for colors and water and lots of sunshine and the oldest clothes that you NEVER built up the courage to throw away just yet and tons of gunk (mud-slush-eggs-beer-some unidentifiable black stuff) and a whole lotta intoxicants to ensure you lose all inhibitions and let your ugly side rule... just FYI, the prettier you look at Holi, the less fun you are assumed to be having... the level of cleanliness that shines through when you walk down is directly proportional to how many people attack you at once with whatever liquid-powder-colour-thing that they can get hold of... it's a lot like a reverse-makeover... I like to leave home looking icky enough so people usually lose interest since there isn't much scope for further "improvements"...
The best things about Holi:
~ Noone judges you by how you look or what you are wearing... most people can't even recognize who you are beneath the color-water-sand-mud-paint-ketchup-eggyolk-stuff... the only judgments that are made are how heavy you are so they can determine the number of keen volunteers that will be required to pick you up and throw you into the custom-made slush on the side of the road!
~Alcohol is aplenty... everywhere you go and it's always got an inconspicuous lil pink powder floating about at the top... adds a dash of colour to the beer, you know! Bhaang is passed around to the unsuspecting amateurs and the guys-who've-had-it-every-year-since-they-were-twelve! Everyone's a little buzzed from the cocktail of gunk, the intoxicants, the rushes of adrenaline and the overexposure to the sun... it's a happy-happy day for all involved
~The food is always fantastic, there is always the super-yummy puris and chana, gujiya and sweets and other such heavy-oily stuff that you can shove down your throat while chasing people with buckets of water!
~There will never be a better excuse to throw off that horribly shapeless ridiculously childish tee that the Lakshmi aunties of the world gift you when they come visiting after a whole decade!
~It's a day off from work!!!! ... you get to nap in the afternoon...after all the frantic morning madness and the heavy festive lunch
~ Strangely enough, after the all the showering and scrubbing off and shampooing and soaping and 'loofah'ing your hair shines better from the egg-and-beer conditioner and your skin glows from all that exfoliating
~The streaks of color that remain at random parts of you (for me it's my scalp) for another week, reminding you of the crazy time you had
~Everything is forgiven in Holi, starting from the horrible fashion sense to the bitterness shared between people... everything's good and bright and colorful... and perhaps even a little off-centre and disorienting depending on what you've been consuming!
Holi is the day for colors and water and lots of sunshine and the oldest clothes that you NEVER built up the courage to throw away just yet and tons of gunk (mud-slush-eggs-beer-some unidentifiable black stuff) and a whole lotta intoxicants to ensure you lose all inhibitions and let your ugly side rule... just FYI, the prettier you look at Holi, the less fun you are assumed to be having... the level of cleanliness that shines through when you walk down is directly proportional to how many people attack you at once with whatever liquid-powder-colour-thing that they can get hold of... it's a lot like a reverse-makeover... I like to leave home looking icky enough so people usually lose interest since there isn't much scope for further "improvements"...
The best things about Holi:
~ Noone judges you by how you look or what you are wearing... most people can't even recognize who you are beneath the color-water-sand-mud-paint-ketchup-eggyolk-stuff... the only judgments that are made are how heavy you are so they can determine the number of keen volunteers that will be required to pick you up and throw you into the custom-made slush on the side of the road!
~Alcohol is aplenty... everywhere you go and it's always got an inconspicuous lil pink powder floating about at the top... adds a dash of colour to the beer, you know! Bhaang is passed around to the unsuspecting amateurs and the guys-who've-had-it-every-year-since-they-were-twelve! Everyone's a little buzzed from the cocktail of gunk, the intoxicants, the rushes of adrenaline and the overexposure to the sun... it's a happy-happy day for all involved
~The food is always fantastic, there is always the super-yummy puris and chana, gujiya and sweets and other such heavy-oily stuff that you can shove down your throat while chasing people with buckets of water!
~There will never be a better excuse to throw off that horribly shapeless ridiculously childish tee that the Lakshmi aunties of the world gift you when they come visiting after a whole decade!
~It's a day off from work!!!! ... you get to nap in the afternoon...after all the frantic morning madness and the heavy festive lunch
~ Strangely enough, after the all the showering and scrubbing off and shampooing and soaping and 'loofah'ing your hair shines better from the egg-and-beer conditioner and your skin glows from all that exfoliating
~The streaks of color that remain at random parts of you (for me it's my scalp) for another week, reminding you of the crazy time you had
~Everything is forgiven in Holi, starting from the horrible fashion sense to the bitterness shared between people... everything's good and bright and colorful... and perhaps even a little off-centre and disorienting depending on what you've been consuming!
Monday, February 23, 2009
Trippyyyyy!!!
Four nights this past weekend, four train rides... Left Friday evening on a train to P, Sat evening from P to K, Sun evening back from K to P, and tonight I'm on a train from P to the Dallllhiiiiiizzzz :)... hectic travels but such a good time... updates later, my USB data card will refuse to download/upload too much tonight (poor thing's been overstressed, working over the weekends!)... will fill up my blog with all the maddening details soon!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
In the process of rationalizing rage...
It ripples within ... and then accelerates exponentially... they say acceleration is defined as the change in velocity divided by the change in time ("they say" because science has always been questionable to me), velocity being speed in a certain direction... speed is further broken down as distance over time...the time taken here for it to hit me hard enough and wrench into my system, is calculated in miliseconds... the distance only stretches a little over 5 feet...direction isn't singular in this case, it starts from the center of my being and spreads out to my toes and fingers and forehead and out my nostrils and my tongue... upon reaching my tongue, terminal velocity is struck... ladies & gentlemen, introducing the point of no return!!!
Scathing words of sarcasm, like tiny sharp pins, dart out aiming to prick anyone within its radius...their arbit paths collide, spin and re-direct... they seek out all possible targets and barrage mercilessly... they aren't lethal enough to kill...more like ant bites, a slight pinch, except that they fall in multitudes and bruise slowly, conquering gradually and overcoming their now-helpless prey.
One moment things around me are within their dimensions of height, length and depth and seconds later, they burst into an unfathomable multi-dimensional plethora of shades, hues, and textures... I can't make sense of objects, people, sounds and even of myself! All I see transforms to white-hot forms floating about on multiple planes... all I sense is the heat waves generated from me to everything around me... all I feel is the burning and the startling contrasting cold of tears, running down my cheeks, shaming me with their presence, breaking my self-created barriers, pointing their accusatory fingers at my lack of fortitude...
Uncontrollable rage transforms to frustration and tears... and then comes the guilt and the sadness... their isn't a worse emotion than guilt... anger takes over my person suddenly. It takes me in its arms and spins me over like a professional waltz dancer would, with a graceless, powerless amateur. Guilt, however, gnaws at me... like a giant, obese rat with greedy glinting eyes... it eats up my mind and takes it over until I shiver and shake and cry... my palpitating heartbeat slows down, and all I feel is the misery... sorrow for all that I felt and saw and said... sorrow for all within my hurting-radius... and sorrow for my own sorry self...to be capable of such meanness!
Yet, I let it overcome me and my rational self... I let it reign over my thoughts and actions and relationships... I don't even want to challenge it by pledging patience, I fear I'll only end up disappointing and depressing myself... realizing that my efforts will be in vain, is so much worse than just not trying in the first place!!!
Saturday, February 14, 2009
faith...
It's happened to me before and I've always felt the same way... it's that phase of my life again... where everything seems to fit... all the right pieces of the jigsaw miraculously form the perfect picture... everything I have ever wanted is right before my eyes... it's so real, I can smell it, touch it, taste it... the concept of perfect is so tangible... yet it scares the shit out of me! What if I build it up to what it actually is? What if my castle of cards, made up of only the prettiest face cards, collapses right before my helpless eyes? What if the mirage is pulling me in to a mock sense of security, all the while laughing it's fat belly, the thunderous evil laugh echoing in the horizon? What if ...?
And what if this is what I think it is... utopia! What if I hesitate to believe it and it loses faith in me? What if my fears chase away my pretty ideal picture into the unreachable realms of darkness?
Life will bring us to evenly spaced out milestones and periodically confusing crossroads... do I celebrate the next milestone, or fear the next crossroad? When it's time to take that leap of faith and believe in my dreams and my self and my abilities to merge my actual & ideal selves, will I hold back and shudder at the thought of the risk? Will I take the plunge and see where I end up... Sometimes the fear of disappointing myself makes me want to not give things what they deserve... my 100%!
All I can do is plead to my jigsaw picture... stay in on me... I do believe in you... I may question your hues or doubt my worthiness of being a part of you... but I will get to you when I'm ready and deserving of all your expectations... I will be there to unite with you, that last central piece, I shall land smack in the middle of this utopia and own it and make it my own and belong there and everything will fall into place so that my twisted lines are complemented by the rest of the puzzle...and no longer shall it be a puzzle, just a perfect little picture...
And what if this is what I think it is... utopia! What if I hesitate to believe it and it loses faith in me? What if my fears chase away my pretty ideal picture into the unreachable realms of darkness?
Life will bring us to evenly spaced out milestones and periodically confusing crossroads... do I celebrate the next milestone, or fear the next crossroad? When it's time to take that leap of faith and believe in my dreams and my self and my abilities to merge my actual & ideal selves, will I hold back and shudder at the thought of the risk? Will I take the plunge and see where I end up... Sometimes the fear of disappointing myself makes me want to not give things what they deserve... my 100%!
All I can do is plead to my jigsaw picture... stay in on me... I do believe in you... I may question your hues or doubt my worthiness of being a part of you... but I will get to you when I'm ready and deserving of all your expectations... I will be there to unite with you, that last central piece, I shall land smack in the middle of this utopia and own it and make it my own and belong there and everything will fall into place so that my twisted lines are complemented by the rest of the puzzle...and no longer shall it be a puzzle, just a perfect little picture...
Friday, February 6, 2009
Silica dreams
The sands of time swivel in their tribal dance
The grains surge and rush between his toes
He doesn't budge from his towering stance
Age cakes his being, yet his body glows
He has lived in this world and relished it all
He has laughed and cried and loved and lost
He has felt the rise, the plateau, the fall,
Savoured the gains and suffered the cost
Blow by blow he recounts his journey,
Slows down on the special parts and rushes
Smoothly over the ones bitter, scary and unsightly.
A nearly senseless torrent of words he gushes
The sand collects and reminds him of now
He speeds on to the blessings to his kin
Sweet words of faith and harmony he does endow
Merged syllables, barely heard over the swirling din
Dust pierces my eyes without remorse
Unblinking I strain my eyes to see his face
A dune forms over him, scraggy and course
And he is sucked in to the thirsty haze
The sands of time have seized his outer shell
Yet his soul shall travel untiringly farther away
And somewhere within this realm of life
The caked dust will crumble to bare new clay
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Indian vocab lesson
irony (verb)
Origin: Govt offices and high-level corporate positions
Pronounced: aaye-ronee
Definition: When one manages to screw oneself over badly enough to shed tears, particularly when expectations of others from the said person have risen neck-craning-sky-high
exclude (noun)
Origin: English globally
Pronounced: ex-clued
Definition: A former partner who has developed stalker tendencies and is clued in to what (and who) one is doing these days
cushion (verb)
Origin: English in overpopulated Asian regions
Pronouced: queue-shun
Definition: Shoving and pushing in absolute ignorance of the possibility that one has to queue up or form a semblance of a line, in order to get on the bus/ book a ticket/ climb the Mumbai local train/ pick up booze from the wine shop (ttheka) 10 mins before its official closing time and other such situations of urgency
lollypop (noun)
Origin: Law courts in metros & tier-I cities
Pronounced: law-leap-up
Definition: A situation wherein a jurisdiction/rule is imposed with no leniency whatsoever (particularly to a celebrity or a pg 3 personality) in order to "set an example" to the public, i.e. to ensure that the public authorities become the cynosure of every print & AV news piece on the impartiality of law-and-order in India
revolution (noun)
Origin: Chaotic Delhi roads
Pronounced: Rev-all-you-shun
Definition: The rare occurence when, as the traffic signal turns green (preferably after a 180 second red light), one's car stalls and refuses to start again, while the 1-km-long line of vehicles behind you begin their bitter-not-so-sweet honking symphony (peppered with a dash of rustic swearing)
Socrates (noun)
Origin: Farmhouse parties on the outskirts of NCR
Pronounced: Sau-crate-ease
Definition: A member of the pre-celebration crew (usually accompanied by an equal size of rippling proud muscles and negative IQ) who is responsible for procuring beer crates (preferably 100... or as many as can be piled in his loud, flashy SUV)
Joystick (noun)
Origin: C-grade Hindi almost-porn movies
Pronounced: As written
Definition: Do I need to elaborate here ??? :P (hint: "common baybeee, gimme your joy-ishtick" :))))
Origin: Govt offices and high-level corporate positions
Pronounced: aaye-ronee
Definition: When one manages to screw oneself over badly enough to shed tears, particularly when expectations of others from the said person have risen neck-craning-sky-high
exclude (noun)
Origin: English globally
Pronounced: ex-clued
Definition: A former partner who has developed stalker tendencies and is clued in to what (and who) one is doing these days
cushion (verb)
Origin: English in overpopulated Asian regions
Pronouced: queue-shun
Definition: Shoving and pushing in absolute ignorance of the possibility that one has to queue up or form a semblance of a line, in order to get on the bus/ book a ticket/ climb the Mumbai local train/ pick up booze from the wine shop (ttheka) 10 mins before its official closing time and other such situations of urgency
lollypop (noun)
Origin: Law courts in metros & tier-I cities
Pronounced: law-leap-up
Definition: A situation wherein a jurisdiction/rule is imposed with no leniency whatsoever (particularly to a celebrity or a pg 3 personality) in order to "set an example" to the public, i.e. to ensure that the public authorities become the cynosure of every print & AV news piece on the impartiality of law-and-order in India
revolution (noun)
Origin: Chaotic Delhi roads
Pronounced: Rev-all-you-shun
Definition: The rare occurence when, as the traffic signal turns green (preferably after a 180 second red light), one's car stalls and refuses to start again, while the 1-km-long line of vehicles behind you begin their bitter-not-so-sweet honking symphony (peppered with a dash of rustic swearing)
Socrates (noun)
Origin: Farmhouse parties on the outskirts of NCR
Pronounced: Sau-crate-ease
Definition: A member of the pre-celebration crew (usually accompanied by an equal size of rippling proud muscles and negative IQ) who is responsible for procuring beer crates (preferably 100... or as many as can be piled in his loud, flashy SUV)
Joystick (noun)
Origin: C-grade Hindi almost-porn movies
Pronounced: As written
Definition: Do I need to elaborate here ??? :P (hint: "common baybeee, gimme your joy-ishtick" :))))
Sunday, February 1, 2009
leap before you look
Driving on auto-pilot mode usually results in the most abstract albeit true thoughts, it's almost like being on a trip (only the ideas don't bounce against the walls of your marijuana-induced-suddenly-broadened mind as rapidly)... a strange concept crept into my vacant-yet-occupied mind... to drive well one needs to hone both reflexes and a sense of foresight... and strangely, these skills are needed at completely different times!
If you lack foresight, you've got to work the reflexes fast enough to avoid crashing into that annoying little oblivious two-wheeler rider... and if you lack reflexes, you better use foresight to decide what excuses you need to give the cops to get out of the whole mess! I really wonder what is needed in greater quantity- planning & foresight can get you on the right roads well ahead of time so you never really need to go crazy with the accelerator (I DIDN'T say gas pedal!) and rely on the hopefully-lightning-fast-reflexes... and if you have massive doses of responsiveness, then you can forget about wasting your time meticulously planning out your route and even leave home much later to still reach your destination with time to spare... in my case I would like to believe that I have the perfect balance of both (...as well as dollops of modesty oozing out of my smug-as-a-cat face)... but looking at the maddening Delhi traffic, and the ever-confusing-and-perpetually-transforming Metro diversions, and the indecisive three and two-wheelers ruling the fast-lane of the roads, and the hyper stray dogs chasing their favourite brand of cars "tyrelessly", I think reflexes count for a whole lot more... foresight can only help you plan which roads have fewer traffic lights, but it's reflexes that can help you yell most effectively (fewer, more comprehensible and most impactful words) at all the frustrating vehicles whose only agenda to be on the same road as you is to ram into your beautiful, shiny, gorgeous ride!!!
I believe you've got to learn to drive safe in this city... and whenever that isn't possible (e.g. on MG road), drive smart & sassy! Go hottie female drivers!!! Get those giant glares on your face, the chin-up attitude and the high-heeled-uber-hot shoes stamping on that pedal!!!
If you lack foresight, you've got to work the reflexes fast enough to avoid crashing into that annoying little oblivious two-wheeler rider... and if you lack reflexes, you better use foresight to decide what excuses you need to give the cops to get out of the whole mess! I really wonder what is needed in greater quantity- planning & foresight can get you on the right roads well ahead of time so you never really need to go crazy with the accelerator (I DIDN'T say gas pedal!) and rely on the hopefully-lightning-fast-reflexes... and if you have massive doses of responsiveness, then you can forget about wasting your time meticulously planning out your route and even leave home much later to still reach your destination with time to spare... in my case I would like to believe that I have the perfect balance of both (...as well as dollops of modesty oozing out of my smug-as-a-cat face)... but looking at the maddening Delhi traffic, and the ever-confusing-and-perpetually-transforming Metro diversions, and the indecisive three and two-wheelers ruling the fast-lane of the roads, and the hyper stray dogs chasing their favourite brand of cars "tyrelessly", I think reflexes count for a whole lot more... foresight can only help you plan which roads have fewer traffic lights, but it's reflexes that can help you yell most effectively (fewer, more comprehensible and most impactful words) at all the frustrating vehicles whose only agenda to be on the same road as you is to ram into your beautiful, shiny, gorgeous ride!!!
I believe you've got to learn to drive safe in this city... and whenever that isn't possible (e.g. on MG road), drive smart & sassy! Go hottie female drivers!!! Get those giant glares on your face, the chin-up attitude and the high-heeled-uber-hot shoes stamping on that pedal!!!
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Month # 1
It's been awhile since I let loose my thoughts on the "blogosphere"... I find it strange to call it that, because to me, the blogosphere represents nothing more than the whiteboard where I can almost-retch out my innermost thoughts, emotions, conflicts and confusions... I don't connect with anyone else here, but my own self...
Nonetheless, to proceed further, it's been some time since I sat down to smash my arbit ideas against the ever-obedient and always-inviting QWERTY keys. My birthday happened sometime in between... and so did my "birthweek"... the birth week is my very own patented way of ensuring that the post-birthday-blues don't hit me at the end of my birthday... therefore, from the eve of my birthday for the next 7 days is my birth week and everyone who is close enough for me to announce this concept to, has to be tolerant of my moods during this period of time... I'm also not allowed (by myself) to feel depressed, miserable or "uncool" :)))). Birthweek was actually developed to provide everyone I know an opportunity to shower me with gifts even if I didn't meet them on my day... this was primarily directed at my parents as they barely got to see me during my days at hostel...
Immediately after my birthweek lapsed and my friends and family breathed a sigh of relief from this draconian norm that I had created and they were unwittingly compelled to adhere to, I left for a weekend trip to Rajasthan... it was the Republic Day weekend, and we ran out of Delhi on Friday (late night since some of us were swimming/struggling in a whirlpool of work), took an overnight sleeper bus to Jaipur... roamed about the city all day and took another overnight sleeper (wayyyy better than the last one since this one had an AC) to Udaipur... we galavanted around the gorgeous lake, the palaces, the museums and restaurants (you can smoke in ALLLL the open air, rooftop restaurants and most of the others too... what a privelege for us smoke-banned delhiites!)... then set out to Delhi again, back to the drudgery of work on Monday night (Republic Day)... went in a luxurious, nearly-palatial Volvo bus with giant berths, a flat screen mini-TV (with the terribly typical rab ne bana di jodi playing in all its ignorant, resplendant glory), night lamp, cellphone charging point and even a shoerack :O... we were spoilt for choice and even bought multiple packets of Lays chips to soak in the last bit of our excessively sensory weekend getaway...
So this is just me trying to briefly document the events of the 1st month of this eventful year... it's been a great start what with the birthweek, the weekend getaway and my gym antics (yes, I've finally convinced myself on the positives of a daily workout routine!)... life is keeping me busy and that just means one thing- no time for too many crazy thoughts....yet!
Nonetheless, to proceed further, it's been some time since I sat down to smash my arbit ideas against the ever-obedient and always-inviting QWERTY keys. My birthday happened sometime in between... and so did my "birthweek"... the birth week is my very own patented way of ensuring that the post-birthday-blues don't hit me at the end of my birthday... therefore, from the eve of my birthday for the next 7 days is my birth week and everyone who is close enough for me to announce this concept to, has to be tolerant of my moods during this period of time... I'm also not allowed (by myself) to feel depressed, miserable or "uncool" :)))). Birthweek was actually developed to provide everyone I know an opportunity to shower me with gifts even if I didn't meet them on my day... this was primarily directed at my parents as they barely got to see me during my days at hostel...
Immediately after my birthweek lapsed and my friends and family breathed a sigh of relief from this draconian norm that I had created and they were unwittingly compelled to adhere to, I left for a weekend trip to Rajasthan... it was the Republic Day weekend, and we ran out of Delhi on Friday (late night since some of us were swimming/struggling in a whirlpool of work), took an overnight sleeper bus to Jaipur... roamed about the city all day and took another overnight sleeper (wayyyy better than the last one since this one had an AC) to Udaipur... we galavanted around the gorgeous lake, the palaces, the museums and restaurants (you can smoke in ALLLL the open air, rooftop restaurants and most of the others too... what a privelege for us smoke-banned delhiites!)... then set out to Delhi again, back to the drudgery of work on Monday night (Republic Day)... went in a luxurious, nearly-palatial Volvo bus with giant berths, a flat screen mini-TV (with the terribly typical rab ne bana di jodi playing in all its ignorant, resplendant glory), night lamp, cellphone charging point and even a shoerack :O... we were spoilt for choice and even bought multiple packets of Lays chips to soak in the last bit of our excessively sensory weekend getaway...
So this is just me trying to briefly document the events of the 1st month of this eventful year... it's been a great start what with the birthweek, the weekend getaway and my gym antics (yes, I've finally convinced myself on the positives of a daily workout routine!)... life is keeping me busy and that just means one thing- no time for too many crazy thoughts....yet!
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