Sunday, October 28, 2007

Since you asked for it....

I cried today, and this was why. Please, please read it and pass it on, if you love them even a little bit.

All little kids, those faint of heart, those easily offended by emotion and rage : please, leave now, you have nothing to see here.

I am f**kin p***ed off today, and this is why ( check the third comment from top).

beautiful post...
or a typical surya post..
I liked that guy...

but then see the following link..

see how many partners does a Finn have and how many an Indian has...

just pointing out that Indian Men are way ahead when it comes to love

Honey, let me tell you a few things. You may not agree with me, that is your prerogative. But this is my blog, and for the rules by which we play here, are mine. All mine.

Indian men, sweets, are not way ahead when it comes to love, especially pointed out by what you have typed here. People who are in love don"t tom-tom the fact, for them it is as natural as breathing. Ever had food prepared by someone whom you loved, and loved you back? ( parents count). When you were eating, did they complain about the hard work in cooking the food? Or were they just happy that you were eating, and eating well?

Phuleeeeze, spare me the juvenile and laughable comparison of counting a person's
love towards another by the number of sex-partners he had in his life.

p.s.: 1) again it is not because most of the Indian men do not get a chance... we get chance but then we stay true and love our gal...

No honey, you don't get the chance. You think you are God's gift to women, but most of you are either scared, spineless, or a combination of both. There are a few who do stay true, but it is not because of any intrinsic Indianity. It depends on the person, and it happens across countries.

Staying true does not mean loving your gal! ( necessary but not sufficient condition).
Staying true may also mean worried about being caught in the act, and the scandal induced melodrama which may be too much for you to take.

And just FYI, many ( thankfully not all ) Indian guys who move abroad / away from
their girl wives will go for a fling... and think that the Indian girls abroad are theirs for the taking. I really don't want to write more about this, as the specific examples crowd into mind and I am slowly being chocked to death by my own puke, which was my body"s way of reacting to their shitty personalities, pudgy bodies and minuscule intellect. Must... not... puke...on... laptop!

You, and your comment, disgust me. I have nothing more to say!

And for those who are wondering what the hell that was all about:

Hey, I was born, and did my formal education, in India. My first friend ever was a guy at the age of two... and we still keep in touch. At the last count, I had more friends from the male category than the female one. Most of them are very serious in their relationships, and I can say with conviction that their girlfriends / wives are a lucky lot. Some of my favourite females have been lucky enough to find their men, with whom they are absolutely in love with, and could not be happier. My single guy friends absolutely rock, and are each awesome in their own quirky ways and I would reccommend them to any pretty ladies reading this blog.

If the guy I would eventually end up with is half as good as these men, I have had it made. And yes, it is composed of 99% Indians.

However, I have also had very bad experiences with the Indian male species. Often I have seen them go spineless and tell women that "sorry dear, cant lead a life with you, you are of a different religion." This after 3-4 years of wasting her life and her making you a priority over every other thing which was important to her. Did it take them that long to figure out her religious beliefs?

But that is not the bad part.

I have been groped, pushed, threatened with violence when I retaliated, pushed to the middle of the road during evening traffic for asserting my dignity, made to be felt like a naked fish in a fish bowl, my private life and friendships under shadow, was propositioned by married men - except for rape ( touch wood!) You name the bad experience, I have experienced it/witnessed it happening to my friends back home.

And that was when we were dressed as per the Taliban line of clothing for young ladies ( except the veil).

All of that compromised on my freedom, the thing which was due to me, from the largest democracy in the world. In the state of social reforms, I could not wear a baggy jeans and a shapeless kurtha without men openly ogling at me and whistling as if I were a sl*t.

At one of our most famous beaches, I could not walk ten meters with one of my
best friends. She had came down to stay with me. We were being leched at and verbally abused by supposedly enlightened members of the society. So much so that my parents asked me and my friend to get back ( oh, BTW, did I mention that my parents were about five feet behind us and still the harassment happened?). I learned to swear enough to make a sailor blush as a retaliatory mechanism. I am not particularly proud of my deadly skill, but it was that or be cowed down.

And this is the life of an average Indian woman. Understand it, by going here. May be not for the ones in the Metros - but nevertheless, it is there.

At least here, I can travel alone at 3am without fearing for my safely. I can go to a drunk man / group of men and ask for directions, and my only worry is that in their drunken state, they may puke on me. Men here had tried to chat me up, but when I show my displeasure, the do move away. I had never put on my axe murderer face ever here ( double touch wood!). This country, which is alien to me, has given me the freedom which was my birthright. The same thing which was taken away from me by the supposedly more loving Indian men who stay true to their gals.

So surprise, surprise!!! When you sing paeans of your gender from my country, I do tend to react a bit.

And now the special lovenotes...

For the author of the comment:

May be, just may be, you are a misinformed little idiot who has been living in the matrix. Well, wakey wakey honey and take the red pill. They world as you knew it, was never there in the first place. Welcome to reality! Your first assignment is to write a 20 page essay each on Kamathipuram and Sonagachi and their main trade, and who supports them. Font 10, Ariel, spacing of 1.0

For those who know me outside the blog world:

Don't tell this to my parents. I don"t want them to pop the red pill at all. There time is over, have mercy, and let them live their misconceptions.

I don't want to talk about it face to face. I like to keep my blog and my life separate. However, I am willing to reply to you via email / blog comments / face book / orkut etc etc.

My dearest friends who happen to be men from India:

" but I never did any of that!!!" sweets, neither did my dad or my uncles... and I know you didn"t... why do you think I am friends ( no, being added to my Orkut/Face book profile does not automatically make you my friend) with you? But most of the men in our country are not like you, which is a pity.

My dearest friends who happen to be women from India who are/may get hitched to men from India:
I am glad you made your choice, and whatever my personal equation with your man, I don"t think any of them qualify for the rants above. This is not about them. Geez woman! Stop being obsessed!

For any hot/cute guys who may get freaked out by the rant:

Five years back, I would have worried that you might have had a bad impression of me because of this and probably would have put up some sort of disclaimer saying that I am not a feminist ( I still am not - and I think it is a sexist term - I fight for humanity). But now, no chance! If you cannot take this, then may be you are not as hot or cute inside as i thought you would be....

And with that, good night, have a great week, and behave!

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Facebook & MS

Without a doubt, the big news today atleast in tech circles will be about Microsoft's acquisition of 1.6% of Facebook.

Of course there are those who think that many companies missed the bus.However, I beg to disagree. I think this is one smart thing that they might have done.

Before you call me a technophobe and other unmentionable names, let me just say:

Social Networking sites are fickle. Extremely fickle. They are mostly populated by us, the N-Gen, who love to think that we are unique and thus cool.

Orkut was the must have some years back - Actually, two; but it seems like a long time ago! We went on a adding friend frenzy with Orkut, I still remember the good old days when there was no word verification and you had to get an invite from someone - for me it was from a tech savvy 50-something who happened to be my professor in my B-school. Then you had to create an Orkut account to sign in there, and things were much simpler and cleaner with a slightly cheesy UI and random requesting to "be fraands"

Sometime last year, I came across the name Facebook in a local newspaper, which described it the next best thing to sliced bread... or at least, Orkut. I had to see what it was all about, and I promptly signed up, impressed with the color scheme and the different third-party ad-ons.

So what has my switching of favorites to do with all this?

Simply this, that I am waiting for the next best thing. And it is not just me. For a generation which want to be defined as unique and ahead of the curve - change is the only constant, and we will keep on changing desperately to define ourselves.

I would much rather see different companies being open to third party apps which will allow me to access my flavor of the moment - while using their services.

And before you thrash my POV, please remember that even he believed in case study!

Saturday, October 20, 2007

The hunting

I went to a disc the other week, with some friends of mine. Finnish people love to dance, and the floor was pretty much crowded. I sat down with a friend, and we ladies were looking at the crowd dancing away to glory.

And then we saw them - or more specifically, him.

He was dancing as the music wanted him to dance. His moves were smooth and fluid, and he moved as if he is a fish in water. He was tall, well built, and he folded his long legs effortlessly so that he is in level with her.

She had taken time to dress up for him, in a subtle way. But she was not up to him, visibly hesitant to dance, to match his steps. She was slightly plump, reminded me of cinnamon rolls and a warm kitchen, while he was more like a rainstorm brewing in the mountains.

and then, there was her. The one who looked like a panther out for a kill, with a body, attitude and steps to match. She surveyed the dance floor, took one look at the couple, decided that the man was hers, and set on to stake her claim.

On that dance floor, it was so easy to flirt with another person even if you were dancing with your date.

Me & my friend sympathized with the girl, what chance did she have with this predator on the prowl?

She started dancing, slowly, sensuously - like a beautiful coral snake slowly slithering. Half the men in the dance floor ( the ones that could see her albeit peripherally) slowed down, were distracted, and some even stopped their dancing to stare at her.

Not him. He was focused on her, coaxing her, cajoling her, to loosen up, to forget making mistakes in her steps or stepping on his his feet. He was dancing, and he was dancing only for her.

Or so we thought. The predator moved slowly towards him, slithering up and slowly starting to wound herself around him. All this done beautifully, discreetly.

He, without a break in the rhythm, stepped around such that his girl was the one who was dancing against her. The put down, was blatant, and it hurt the predator. "WTF!!" she slowly mouthed to her minions who were sitting there, shocked that a common man had dared to turn her down.

The predator, was up for the challenge. She and her minions started dancing, and they somehow made a semi circle around the girl, who was oblivious to all this and was trying to get her steps right. They started crowding her as if she did not even exist, and a well timed push sent her reeling to edge of the dance floor, to the hard pews where we onlookers were watching in fascination.

We felt bad for her. The fact that she was a clumsy dancer at best was established beyond point with that push. When she was being pushed to anonymity, the predator was dancing in front of him, like a bright black flame of all thing luscious and forbidden. she had the best body, the best dress and the best face in that room. She could dance with him, dance like him.

He danced maybe half a step, and went to the pews with his girl, timing his step to her missteps such that it all looked like a wonderfully choreographed return to the seats than the mortified return it was supposed to be. Like she was a queen and he was her harem boy. He danced around her, and wrapped her up in a tight embrace at the end of it.

And he did this all, while he was looking into her eyes and setting steps to music.

And no, she did not know what happened. For her, it was nothing more than a night out dancing brought to end by a suddenly overcrowded dance floor.

My friends wanted me to give them an example of how Finns love, and here it is guys and gals. He did not make her realize what he was doing for her - not by word, or deed, or even a momentary glance at her adversary.

And that night, I believed again in the magic of love.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Bits n pieces

They say that sometimes the rules are to be bent, and one have to follow their own heart.
But when do you know that it's the right time?
May be the trick is to keep walking, let the tension build up, and to take the plunge when you cannot stand it no more.

Yesterday was raining. Yesterday I did not have a proper lunch. Yesterday I was wet and shivering and very close to a nice bout of pneumonia. Yesterday made my legs ache and head pound.
Yesterday was fun. Yesterday we walked around. Yesterday we shared rice cakes and cinnamon buns, with large cups of kahvi. Yesterday I got to know them a bit more better. Yesterday I rediscovered my current city through their eyes.
Often life is a symphony in contradictions.

Monday, October 08, 2007


Weekend hiking trip : 8/10 in happiness

A wonderful sunset: 7/10 in peace

A melancholy song: 8/10 in nostalgia

A clue commented which made me go back to some verses about sweet memories and a circle of friends: priceless!

Sunday, October 07, 2007


Often, people wish for their dreams to come true. But I think it is better to hope, to let the eternal candle burn.

Monday, October 01, 2007


Sometimes, homesickness can be abated by the most random experience.

The flea markets here take me back to the sweaty Chennai days, near the railway station and Adayar, where I ferreted through second to fifth hand books. And the sweaty College Street banter which I could strike up with the vendors there.

It may not be that exuberant here. But underneath the smiles of the grownups and the frankly curious stares of the children, I am somehow rekindling my affection and memories of things that I have left back.