Wimpette speakth: Erm, about you calling him ugly? Ah. about that...

One of the reasons why I blog so intermittently is because I do not like picking on what others have done or said, and even if I want to, 'Shut the fuck up, you dumbass!' isn't much of a blog post, anyway. And frankly, I am a little (as in short) wimpette, so I use my blog for passive aggressive rants which I'm sure the other person wont read, anyway.

I am a very visual person. It is funny given that I am technically blind without my glasses - may be it is the blindness which had made me appreciate beauty in all its majesty and forms.

Speaking of beauty, how can I not speak of humans? Coming to Helsinki has exposed me to a whole new side of human beauty. The men and women I meet here - from babies to the old, they have broadened my definition regarding beauty. On the roads, I stare at people, at moments of great intensity when a particular tilt or curve of mouth would have made a great picture, told an amazing story, but then was lost. ( Some people I know called it eye raping. I disagree. Its appreciation.)

What is beauty anyway? It is perfect symmetry? If so, then we humans are doomed, as not one of us is born symmetrical. And then again, what is the uniqueness in a perfectly proportioned face? For me, it is just boring.

And that is why, I hate it when people call others ugly. Excuse me? If you are talking about beauty, you have to take in all the details. Instead of telling that her eyes have crows feet around them, look into them and see how they sparkle when she smiles. Instead of telling that he is short, focus please, on that killer smile. Instead of calling another one overly made up, look at her face and see how transparent it is when it comes to her emotions.

Human bodies can be very imperfect. I confess that I like the lean n mean torso on men myself. But human faces, I love them, all of them but with various levels of fascination, each uniquely interesting to me, each a reflection of the life that is being lived - you can call a face cunning, angry, evil, boring, wicked, charming, elegant, piquant, sad, happy, crazy, tired, frightened, brave, phony, disgusting - but ugly?

Never.

At least, please do not use that word again. It shows a deep lack of imagination on your part. So, either use the right words to tell me exactly what you feel about a person's face, or Shut the fuck up, you dumbass!

Sigh. I said it, didn't I?

I just blogged, to say, I miss you...

I miss my friends.

Let me put it in context.

I had a great evening, and I miss my friends.

Of course, I have been meeting new people and making some friends here in Finland. Some nice ones. Some great ones even.

But man, I still miss my friends.

I miss my speed crazy companions who think nothing of going at 120Kmph in peak traffic in Blore. I miss my bike crazy friend who took me to watch the planes land from the highway, and then took me to one of the best bars in Delhi.

I miss my friend who always picked fights with me, matching me insult for insult, scream for scream. We are better friends now that we both passed out of that petri dish called MBA school.

I miss the idiots who would oversleep and forget to pick me up from the railway station. I miss the ones who cancel the predetermined meeting, and then pout when my plans do not turn around theirs. I miss my hug buddies. I miss the cribbers with their deep sighs and ' we are all going to die in the end anyway' attitude. I miss the friends who can and will polish off my food whatever much is left ( sometimes even before I am done). I miss my friends with whom I would get into impromptu wrestling matches.

I miss my friends who can match me drink for drink and take care of me once I am so drunk that I start seeing double. I miss the smokes. I miss the randy jokes that I crack with my friends. I miss being called out on my emotions by people who do not mince words. I miss being able to gossip over food and drink and then go and dance the night away like a gang of dervishes.

I miss going to movies and crying, laughing, heckling and sleeping through them with my friends. I miss going on trips with them, my head out of the car window . I miss reading Mills and Boons aloud in a group and dissolving into peals of laughter and adding exaggerated sounds effects to accompany the text.

I miss my friends who tell me to just have fun and embrace my inner Samantha. I miss my friends who can read my every emotion and casually talk me out of my moodiness. I miss my friends who give me drunk calls in the middle of the night so than we can talk about everything and nothing and whom I drunk dial back. I miss my friends who get scandalized of the things I do, but still, love me with their whole heart. I miss cribbing about Mallu culture and getting knowing, sympathetic nods from friends who have been through similar experiences. I miss going out with my friends, making up plans on the fly, never knowing where and how things are going to end.

Girls and boys, loves of my life, this one is for you.

Did I tell you how much I miss you?

25 things about me 'meme'

When Jina had her list up, I had an inkling that my name would be there. Now, 25 things about me which people have not known is difficult. I usually talk a lot, and in that process, share a bit too much about my life too. Anyways, let me try now...

25. I don't know how to flirt. If a guy is flirting with me, I can not make that out either.
24. I love cooking. But I prefer innovating in the kitchen than trying the traditional/same old stuff
23. I have extreme anger. But I always keep it under check.
22. Often when people are mean/bitchy to me, I do not react as the first things that come to my mind are very much unprintable.
21. I had my first soft toy when I was 22. And my first story book when i was 3.
20. I love Kerala but I dont miss the people there.
19. I get high on the feeling of freedom.
18. I have bathophobia - and no silly, its not the fear of taking baths!
17. I miss the monsoon the most.
16. When I was a child, I was possessive of the sun as I thought it was named after me ( yeah, I am very humble.)
15. I love comics.
14. I get hyper afraid when I watch horror movies.
13. I am a creative liar. I once made a roommate belive that I was a mallu princess adopted by Christians. Making her realize the truth was more difficult.
12. I am very cynical of Disney cartoons. I blame it on an overdose of Terry Pratchett.
11. I have a pretty good memory about things that people tell me.
10. I dont like being cold at all.
09. I have a huuuge crush on Edward Norton.
08. I love playing mind games.
07. I go awww... more often when I see dogs than when I see kids. Them I see as little individuals.
06. My first pet was a cat her name was Pussy after the cat in the nursery song about Pussy cat going to London to meet the Queen. I was one then.
05. I learnt to read at three. I used to read the children's books at that age.
04. My favorite drinks in the world are neembu paani, morum vellam and tequila shots.
03. I only get drunk with people whom I am comfortable with.
02. Growing up, I was a communist/socialist. Now I am a hardcore individualist.
01. I open up about many things in my life so that I can turn your attention away from what I want to to hide from you. Till now, the success rate has been 100%.

And I tag...

Nikhil
GG
Saji
DD

I will tell you one, and you tell me another...

Many of my friends do not read fiction. They are exclusively non-fiction readers, who read to know, to think and to understand. They take a look at my book collection and change the subject. Archie comics are not great conversation starters except with 20 something females.


But they love to hear stories. Whenever I bond with my friends, it is over a story. It could be from their lives, from mine, or the stories from the life of a friend of a friend or a story that they have seen or heard, in turn.

Meeting with old friends always turn into story telling sessions. We ask about the major characters, do not forget the minor ones and listen to the introduction of newer characters. Some stories are left unfinished - or rather, they find their endings in limbo. And together we weave our stories of what was, what is and what will be.These are relationships that keep us strong, these are the stories that make us who we are. Sometimes we walk away from those stories, disowning the other characters, but we do remember the stories, and use them for our own How-To, and more often How-Not-To maps.

Meeting new friends is different, very much so. Each story that they do tell is like a tiny step that a very vary and very injured bunny take towards you. You never know how to react, you curb the instinct to reach out and touch it,as you will scare it away. You want to help, you want to be there, but trust has to be earned, stories have to be told, and all the time you have to keep in mind that the bunny may eventually go back into the wild. And you share your stories too, wondering if there is a common thread, and then realizing that a common thread, while bonding the stories together, is not necessary in itself. Transient relationships have a peculiar beauty of their own, something that you can never find in the comforting blanket of enduring friendships.And you will never know; until many months and many years have passed as to which of the new ones will metamorph into a beautiful butterfly and fly away, and which of them will be the bold squirrels who stick around and follow when you walk through the park.

And that brings us into unfinished stories. Some relationships are left halfway through. You never know why that friend never called again or why the other one wanted to end it all. You can never understand why this one changed so completely and why another one did not.Often, the unfinished stories are the ones you think of in completely random moments in your life, and slowly give up trying to figure out. You stop wondering if they were butterflies whom you thought were squirrels or squirrels who eventually moved away because you did not extend a hand.

So friends of old and new, friends to be and former friends; let us sit down once in a while, and just tell stories for a few laughs, shocks and tears.

It will be fun, I promise.

I have been...

Making good progress on my new year resolutions.

Watching some good movies.

Making some new friends, and rediscovered old ones.

Falling in love with snow. The bright white, the light flecks, the taste of winter on your tongue and tickling on your feet.

Snow also brings with itself slippery slopes which make you fall in the most undignified way possible. Snow wets your feet when it is even half degree above zero. Snow looks dirty and ugly when it is swept to the sidewalk and when peed on by dogs and drunk people. It sticks to your shoes and creeps inside the apartment, bringing dirt and grime with it.

It kills any green shoots that try to brave it. It works with viruses to confine me inside my apartment.

But when you wake up one morning and find snow falling quietly, covering everything under a cosy white blanket, you fall in love with snow all over again.

Being practical v/s. Being environmentally minded.

When people talk about recycling and using less resources...

I think back about my childhood.

Where we diverted the water from the bathroom and the wash basins to the garden.

Where clothes were handed around the extended family.

Were books were - story books, text books - handed across families and friendships.

Where old magazines, old milk covers and newspapers were regularly brought by the 'akrikkadakkaran' ( meaning junk buyer in English)

Where pickle and jam jars were used to store spices, where extra jars were given away to neighbors in need.

Were most of the cooking was done on stoves using paper and deadwood as fuel. Where the dried coconut rinds were used to heat water, cook rice and make curry. The ash was used to wash utensils and shine brass and as a fertilizer.

Were plates were either made of clay or steel. Broken clay-pot pieces were used as boundary for the garden, dented steel utensils were exchanged with the shopkeeper when we brought new ones.

Where plastic covers were reused.

Where jute thread used to tie the grocery wrappings were reused.

Where when traveling, a plantain leaf was cut, lightly boiled over a fire and used as a taste retaining food wrap which can be thrown away anywhere.

Were cats would eat the leftover pieces of fish and meat.

Where the kitchen waste went to the compost heap.

Where my dogs provided the nitrogen and ammonia elements needed for the garden - we never used any chemicals in the kitchen garden.

Where broken pieces of glass were collected and used by people as wall decoration.

And broken bangles and random beads were used for craft sessions.

Yes, my parents generation did recycle and were environmentally minded.

But they called it being economical and practical.

May be, just may be, in the so called third world countries instead of starlets urging people to go green and high priced organic produce on the stores,

Someone ought to go to the people and teach them how to be practical.

Just a thought.

Movies.. movies...in this year...

First, I wanted to make a list of movies which I liked. But then, life is defined by moments of love and hate and 'what the heck were they thinking?. So, here are my movie moments from 2008:

The movie which redeemed my faith in Superhero genre after the traumatic experience of watching Spiderman cry:



The movie the then came along and kicked the ass of the above movie so much that I did not miss the show even after falling from an escalator ( its very very difficult to walk up an escalator going down). And it was my second viewing.



The movie which betrayed me:



Edward Norton, I love you. But I did not go to this movie to watch you play a brilliant scientist with a sad, sad story left to tell. I went to watch HULK smash things and people, not to see you play the tortured soul. For that, I would have watched Pride and Glory or Painted Veil. Stick to indie movies, please. And next time, please do some comedy - you are only going to be 40 man, its not the end of your life!

The song which can put me in a peppy mood even on a rainy and cold day:



The song which goes best with red wine:



The movie which I can watch again and again :



Movies yet to watch:

Aamir
A Wednesday
Cadillac Records
Doubt
Frost/Nixon
Gran Torino
Marley & Me
Milk
Mumbai Meri Jaan
Slumdog Millionaire
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Wrestler
Transporter Three
Yes Man

But the one movie which I really, really want to watch, is this :



:-)

And finally, the movie which made me re-like Brad Pitt & George Clooney:

The allure of Brad Pitt was somewhat lessened after me became Ms. Joilie's wife. Ooops, sorry, my bad, partner. Clooney was fast becoming a male Paris Hilton - always being photographed, being with different and younger women who look like clones of each other. However, this one movie made me remember that those two men are pretty good actors.



That's about today. Do sugggest any good movies that I might have missed. And oh, not considering the OST of Slumdog here because man, its a class apart.

For the next year....

Its that time of the year when people start making lists. Christmas lists, New year resolutions... the like. Being a Hindu means I never celebrated the gift giving tradition in Christmas. I of course will be giving some of my friends some gifts when I visit them, but that would have happened even in the middle of the perfectly ordinary day. Like the Mad Hatter, I believe in celebrating Not a Birth Days.

So, for the next year...

1. I want to run - more often, for more time. But it is January, in Finland. However, we have an office gym open 7 days a week and I have friends who frequent the same regularly. So I will be there come next year, to do some Indian bonding and to run a bit.

2. I want to give away stuff - more regularly, more methodically. I do have more clothes and accessories than I need, and I end up wearing the same stuff most of the times. I had already given away around five bags full of clothes, but I want to take a look at other things too, that may find better homes with someone else.

3. I want to jive - by myself or with friends, to head thumping music. I have friends who love rock to jazz to even heavy metal. And I must go for concerts with them, and when they are busy, I should go alone.

4. I want to travel - there are friends across Europe, who would be happy to have me visit them for a few days. There are places, about which I have only read about but always wanted to go. And there are places where I want to go again; to experience what I missed last time, and to relive amazing experiences. With others, alone - it does not matter.

5. I will invite more friends home - and will have pizza parties to traditional Indian meals. I love cooking for others, but my home always seems to be a mess. I just need to clean up the place first. But the first invites go out in January.

And when I get used to this five, I will replace them with more activities.

Rules of Engagement

What do you do when you are just up after a 30 hr blitzkrieg of fever, feeling like you feel after 7 shots of tequila but without the happy buzz and fatigue?

Why, you try to read your feeds, email and tweets. And then looking at the pileup which kind of resemble Mumbai peak hour traffic jams, realize that it’s time for a bit of cleaning up. I have a job and interests outside the internet, so...

So, let me present to you my rules for the social networking sites that I frequent:

Facebook/Friendfeed/Orkut:
#1. I don’t know you, I don’t add you. Doesn’t knowing you mean I don’t know your real name, what you do for a living, whether you are likely to have any criminal charges against you.
#2. I have heard of you, but if your name does not invoke a friendly feeling in me, I don’t add you.
#3. Only exception to above rule is if we have been class mates or if you have been my direct senior / junior in the various educational institutions that I spent time in.

Google Reader:
#1. I follow the website if it makes me laugh or provide info that I find interesting. Personal relationships don’t matter - sorry!

LinkedIn:
#1. I add you if we belong/ed to the same organization / educational institution / LinkedIn group / if I will/have something professional to offer you or vice versa.

Dopplr:
#1. I add you if we are colleagues / friends.

Twitter:
#1. You are my friend / colleague and I find you fascinating enough to stalk you 24x7. (Let’s face it people, Twitter is a sanitized stalking medium for people who want to stalk and people who like the attention. Just a little bit. Without the scary parts.)
#2. I can't understand what you are posting - be it links, be it @ messages to others. And if you keep on @ messaging others, 5/10 wrt your latest posts and I will be walking away
#3. I don’t know your a/s/l, but love your tweets and the tinyurls that you provide.
#4. You tweet as any of my fav fictional characters.
#5. You are a celebrity who actually tweets by yourself. WTG, Shaq!
#6. You are a tweet feed for a political leader / office, of a country which I find interesting.
#7. You update at least once a week. Unless your FQ (fascination quotient - what were you thinking?) is high in my book, I will remove your feed. Sorry about being so uppity about having a clean twitter feed. Im into minimizing stuff in my life these days.

And I follow these rules too.

Yes, I know this comes across as /add your fav adjective for me now here / as hell, but hey, it’s my life, and how I spend it is my prerogative.

Let me get back to my blankets and giant teddy bear now. Being sick sucks.

Stupid Cupid? Well, not really.

Staying at your parents home and working from there have distinct advantages.

You get home food.

Due to the time difference, you can wake up late and stay up late, which I love to do.

Its on the tropics - hello, sunshine and warm weather, as opposed to grey skies and chilly winds in sub polar regions.

You get to play fairy godmother.

Cousins have this habit of sneakly growing up all too quickly when you are not looking. Such is the case with one of mine. Lets call him Matt.

Matt came home one day, and to be frank, I did not recognize him for a full five minutes. This is the same cousin who has mercilessly beaten me up and was beaten up by me - with some additional kicks and scratches included - in turn. So naturally, we were pretty close as kids, in the convoluted way only kids could be.

Of course, now being six years elder and grown up means he treats me with respect. Which is all for good, as Matt has grown up to resemble a baby elephant. Hefty, that boy is.

On my last visit home, I have realized that Matt had a girl friend. Of course I was happy, of course I promised not to tell my parents or his - love affairs while studying is not something our parents look kindly upon.

So this time, Matt's lady love wanted to see him. All of 20 years of age and broken as students are, Matt weaseled out some money from his mom saying that he needs to buy new clothes. Of course, it was spent to travel to meet Nannie and spend some quality time with her. He had made some similar trips in the past, where my dumbass cousin tried to make out with his girlfriend behind a police station ( dont ask me what prompted him ) and the police almost arrested them for public obsenity ( no clothes were off, and this is not a Talibanic regimn, but Mallus think that kids are born when two people hold hands and prefer to keep thinking that way).

And now I get a call from Matt, on my mom's cell. He mom wants to see the shirts that he has bought with the money. The money which he spent to go and visit Nannie. So, after a quick discussion where I felt like a criminal mastermind - Tell your mom that you left the shirts with your friends. They will give it to you later here from the railway station. No no.... they dont have time to come to your home... and get two of your friends to backup the story - I agree to buy him the shirts.

Matt's father called him and treatened him that he will track his son down by asking the phone company to provide his roaming location. Fyi, Matt was supposed to be on a place about 250Km and six hours by road south from where he now actually is. The Luddites that he and Nannie are, they got spooked and call me. The gist of the call went somewhat like this:

Matt: Sis, dad will surely catch me.

Me: What? Coz of WHAT??? And you both believed that???? HAHAHAHAHAA!!!

Matt will be spending the early morning hours of 3am in the railway station, surrounded by mosquitos. He will then come to my home, and we will go and get the shirts which are to be presented to his mom.


Do I think that Matt and Nannie are made for each other? Hell, I have no idea. Do I think they should get married at the end of their bachelor degrees? Honestly, I don't care. I would rather they go their separate ways if they feel that they have changed than them try sticking together just for old times sake.

So why do I support them?

Because I always wanted a big sibling to confide to. To talk about frist loves and first heart aches. To talk of first sips of sprits and lost friendships. To have someone tell me that the elders in my family are a bit looney and that they dont know everything. To have someone from the family to eoncourage me to make my own choices, mistakes even, and learn from them. But I had to do with myself.

Because they need to make their own life decisions. They need to learn to be adults. I had a chance to stay away from home and learn my lessons, and I would not want my dumbass kid brother to miss the school of life. And what better lesson do we learn there than that which is taught by Cupid? If it works out, great for him. If not, I will always be there for him ( and for her too), his big sister.


Note: My blog readers, especially the non Indian ones, might wonder as to why two 20 year olds are afraid of seeing each other. Its because of financial dependency. All said and done, a lot of 16-24 year olds who study do not pay for it - their parents do. Add to this kids who stay with their parents till they are married or even after that, and a society which mostly condones love only on the big screen, not to mention the highly volatile sentiments related to cast, religion, ethnicity and social status.... its not an easy life for love stories to end in happily ever after.

How Barack Obama got his 'Yes we Can!' slogan

Picture this. A dad who loves his daughters. One is now 7, and the other is 11.

And imagine, that the girls love Bob the Builder. Their smart mom wanted to make sure that their daughters do not get gender stereotyped, and make sure they watch Bob and Wendy and their motley crew.

Of course, dad and his little girls spend a lot of time watching them. The four year difference between the daughters suggest that the dad must have watched the series with his girls for at least five years by now?

And as anyone who still baby sit a kid knows, bonding with kids means singing songs together. Also, most of the kiddie songs have an annoying tendency to stick in your head.

Is it then too much to think that Obama got his 'Yes We Can!!! from here?



If you are still not convinced, here are the original lyrics to the song:

aaaaaaaaaaaaah!
aaaaaaaaaaaaah!
aaaaaaaaaaaaah!
(Take your places)
aaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Can we fix it?
Yes we can!

(chorus)
Bob the builder
Can we fix it?
Bob the builder
Yes we can!

Scoop, Muck and Dizzy
and Roley too.
Lofty and Wendy
join the crew.
Bob and the gang
have so much fun.
Working together,
they get the job done!

(chorus)
Bob the builder
Can we fix it?
Bob the builder
Yes we can!

Bob the builder
Can we fix it?
Bob the builder
Yes we can!

Time to get busy.
Such a lot to do!
Building and fixing
'til it's good as new.
Bob and the gang
make a really good sound.
Working all day
till the sun goes down.

(chorus)
Bob the builder
Can we fix it?
Bob the builder
Yes we can!

Bob the builder
Can we fix it?
Bob the builder
Yes we can!

Can you fix it?
Right.
Left a bit.
Right a little.
Ok, straight down.

We can tackle any situation
Look out, here we come

Can we dig it? Yes!!!!!!
Can we build it? Yes!!!!!!!
Can we fix it? Yes!!!!!!

(chorus)
Bob the builder
Can we fix it?
Bob the builder
Yes we can!

Bob the builder
Can we fix it?
Bob the builder
Yes we can!

Digging and mixing
Having so much fun
Working together
They get the job done

Can we dig it? Yes
Can we build it? Yes
Can we fix it? Yes

Bob the builder! Hey!!!
Bob the builder! Altogether now

Bob the builder
Can we fix it?
Bob the builder
Yes, yes we can!

Bob the builder
Can we fix it?
Bob the builder
oooooooh!!

(chorus)
Bob the builder
Can we fix it?
Bob the builder
Yes we can!

We'd better get some work done!

And here is the modified version:

aaaaaaaaaaaaah!
aaaaaaaaaaaaah!
aaaaaaaaaaaaah!
(Take your places)
aaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Can we fix it?
Yes we can!

(chorus)
Bar-aack O- bama
Can we fix it?
Bar-aack O- bama
Yes we can!

Joe, Dave and Penny
and Axel too.
Robby and Timmy
join the crew.
'Bama and the gang
have so much fun.
Working together,
they get the job done!

(chorus)
Bar-aack O- bama
Can we fix it?
Bar-aack O- bama
Yes we can!

Bar-aack O- bama
Can we fix it?
Bar-aack O- bama
Yes we can!

Time to get busy.
Such a lot to do!
Building and fixing
'til it's good as new.
'Bama and the gang
make a really good sound.
Working all day
till the sun goes down.

(chorus)
Bar-aack O- bama
Can we fix it?
Bar-aack O- bama
Yes we can!

Bar-aack O- bama
Can we fix it?
Bar-aack O- bama
Yes we can!

Can you fix it?
Right.
Left a bit.
Right a little.
Ok, straight down.

We can tackle any situation
Look out, here we come

Can we dig it? Yes!!!!!!
Can we build it? Yes!!!!!!!
Can we fix it? Yes!!!!!!

(chorus)
Bar-aack O- bama
Can we fix it?
Bar-aack O- bama
Yes we can!

Bar-aack O- bama
Can we fix it?
Bar-aack O- bama
Yes we can!

Digging and mixing
Having so much fun
Working together
They get the job done

Can we dig it? Yes
Can we build it? Yes
Can we fix it? Yes

Bar-aack O- bama! Hey!!!
Bar-aack O- bama! Altogether now

Bar-aack O- bama
Can we fix it?
Bar-aack O- bama
Yes, yes we can!

Bar-aack O- bama
Can we fix it?
Bar-aack O- bama
oooooooh!!

(chorus)
Bar-aack O- bama
Can we fix it?
Bar-aack O- bama
Yes we can!

We'd better get some work done!

Funny though, as how the slight changes in name fits the Obama campaign's stated sentiments so perfectly....

Any thoughts?

Cheat Sheet

I wrote a blog post... and suddenly, it appeared here!!!

Many of you may not know this side of me... but enjoy :))

Sorry is a difficult word to spell

I apologize a lot.

Actually, I find it easier to apologize than most people. I also tend to own up when I am wrong, and have no problems in admitting the other person was right.

Most of the times, anyway.

It is comparatively easy in work place. The right and logical thing to do is clear and visible. However when it comes to the hours when Outlook is shut down, things are not always that clear cut.

So, after a quarter year or so, I sent out a long pending apology letter. It was not very long, I cant say that it was very well written. The egoist that I am, I tucked the apology away after a PS and between too many smileys.

But also tucked in between the lines were wishes for that persons happiness, and fond rememberance of the friendship we had. ( Im a biiig sucker for good friends). I hope that we resume our friendship, but do not see that happening from the other end.

But still, I said sorry, and I meant it. And I am happy that I did the right thing, eventhough it was not that easy. ( I have a biiiiig ego too).

Marriage woes

"I don't want to get married!"

There is resolve in the voice, and petulance too. There is frustration, which emanates from the fact that brother can remain unmarried and there is not even a discussion about it, but they want to get the younger one up and out of the family home. Understandably, the injustice of it all brings hot tears to her eyes.

"Alrighty.. not for the next twenty years." The mother is playing a dangerous game, and she smiles at me to denote that she knows it. I watch it fascinated, wondering how this is going to work out.

"No!!!! Not even after that!" She is very very specific about it, and being old enough to understand that twenty years is not forever, cuts the suggestion down.

We let her simmer in her indignation. Her mom turns to me.

"On the other day, we told her that she can find a nice boy from around here. But no, she wanted to marry someone from our community, and expected her dad to find her one." There is a hint of laughter in her voice. A Christian who has been happily married to a Hindu, she can understand the irony of those earnest but naive declarations much better than I do.

"Waaaa!!!! No!!!!!!" Oops. We had forgotten the fact that the little one can hear, and has a regrettably good command of English.

Waterworks start. She is in agony, you can see that from the scrunched up face and the deep, deep sobs.

"Alright honey.... don't get married... don't get out of home... stay with me and cook and clean for me..." says the mother. May be its me, but then again, there is a slight hint of regret and sarcasm in her voice. Regret that her daughter wont always be this innocent, this huggable ; sarcasm that is waiting for the future when she will be saying " but you never let me go anywhere!"

Did I say that I love them both, the spunky mom and her adorable daughter?

Excuses Galore

The past few days, Ive been visiting Murphy on and off.

First my laptop crashed. Then my personal laptop got such a viral attack that it was virtually sneezing and leaving goo all over my home. Then my colleagues laptop, which he kindly loaned to me, crashed. I guess I turned to Magneto for a day...

Upside: 1.5 days of unintended holiday.

Downside: Work being piled up. I hate not ticking off things on my TO-DO list, and the thought of all the work not done kind of took the sheen away from the dont do anything and stay home period.

Been to Rome. Been to rock climbing and I love the feeling of falling. The feeling of my limbs aching over the next two days, not so much. But still, will, go again.

May travel again next week, related to work. So it remains to be seen how much of blogging will be done. However my passport is with the US Embassy - I finally got the visa! - so need to pick it up for the travel. No biggie.

Ive not told you about the Manticore and his girlfriend, have I? Seems like her best friend is finally ready to tell us about them. This looks promising.

A boring story

When she was a baby, they told her about love.When she was a child, she knew all about it.

At eleven, she gave up waiting for a prince to come on a white horse.

At fifteen, for the first time a boy’s eyes met hers in love. She was in love for three weeks. Then he changed his hairstyle.


At twenty, she gave up on the bended knee. She was in love with a man who read Ayn Rand and was destined for great things.

At twenty two, her true love denounced world peace and decided that the greatest thing in the world was a US green card.She denounced him and world peace.

At twenty four, she forgot Valentine’s Day. She was studying for her exams and had a perfect score. She also had a perfect boyfriend, who actually read enough of and about Ayn Rand to realize that she was not perfect. One year later they broke up, as the intellectually mature man in her life could not accept that fact that she landed a better job than him.

At twenty six, she had a good job and a better affair with one of the senior partners of her firm. He bought her flowers, he bought her chocolates. And when one day he buried his head in her hair and asked her if she would like to be his wife, she coolly said no. She did not like to be cheated, and knew enough of people to try and change them.Shortly afterwards, she swore off roses and chocolates too.

At twenty nine, she seduced the nineteen year old son of the partner. It was fun the first few times, but the boy wanted her ‘to be mine, all mine.’ It got trite after a while. She gave up on the semantics of ownership.


At thirty three, she went out for a beer with a friend of hers in a London Public house. They have been vaguely friends and good acquaintances for a long time, and given that they worked in related fields, they kept running into each other. They had swapped stories of sexual conquests and sexual frustrations over the years, and in the pub over some English ale, they were talking about life.

‘Lets make babies.’ She told him.

‘Lets get married.’ He told her.

‘But not now. Lets wait for a few more years.’

‘Yes – in may be five years? ‘

'May be.'

They agreed, and smiled at each other in embarrassment. Further discussions could not be carried forth as a pub fight had broken out and they were more keen to see it then to talk about their wedding.

That night, when walking back to his home discussing the finer points of the English Pub Brawl, she felt oddly thankful, and rested; with the satisfaction she had only experienced with a good score in an exam or a project well completed.

This is a bit boring.

We know.

So why did You chose to tell this?

Because this is one of the few moments in the game where We both were there, and in perfect harmony.

But it is boring!

Well, she liked Us.

So did he.

.....................................................

It is still boring…

You have become impatient. You spend too much time with them, carrying them around in Your stupid box.

Yes, and you take them away in the middle of the game! Not fair!

I have the Karma to look at, you know – cant let them have too much wear and tear…

Whatever. Lets go back to our game.

They rose as One, and went back to the game, leaving Carer alone. He sat staring after them, and then picked up his box and went after them.

Stories: Preface

First there was Love and first there was Freedom.

They came into being, chanced upon each Other, and decided to be together. Love knew that he will be complete and powerful with Freedom, and Freedom knew that Love would provide her with the intensity to be free. So, like most relationships, Theirs too was one of convenience. And like in most relationships, They got bored after spending sometime with each Other. Love failed to recognize that Freedom wants to be free, and Freedom failed to recognize that being with Love means not soaring away, but falling in.

They did not bicker or give each Other the silent treatment. Instead, They went and asked the Maker to help them out. For Love without Freedom is crippled, and Freedom without Love is never satisfied and they were enough to realize that.

The Maker had just made a game, and he gave it to Love & Freedom.

'Go and play.' he said to Them. ' Through this game try to understand each other and yourself. Be the driving forces behind the game, try to shape it and mold it.'

'What are the rules?' They asked, for They knew that the Maker loved to define complicated rules.

'For this one, there is none.' He replied, running his hands over the small round game platform. ' It and the players are pretty resiliant.' He gave it to Them, and it hovered exactly between Them. 'Go on; test it, play it beyond its limits.' Not waiting for Their gratitude, he walked away to his next creation.

It did not matter to Love and Freedom that the players appeared to have a life of all their own. The Beings who rule Gods do not care for such smaller details.

And They have been playing ever since. Sometimes Love wins, sometimes Freedom. But as time went on, they realized that the pieces of them game were also playing the game, mostly with each other. Once in a while a piece would come along and try to bring Love and Freedom together, or do something so illogical that They learnt about each Other and Themselves. They recorded some of the instances away. There are hundreds of them, and the stories which are coming forth are a very very tiny selection from them.

Oh, and the game? The Maker had called it Life.

1001 stories - the first 10 is here.

If life was a little more colorful and a little less sane, I would have become a wandering story teller.

It is the perfect job for me. I listen and observe, and then ask the important question of 'what if?'. And I am adept in disguising the protagonists or making them a concoction of the many whom I have known. I would wander from small bar to small bar, regaling people with stories from far and wide, and then listening to them. Payment in bartenders indigenous mixes, food and hospitality along with money; for when given freely, even the best things are not valued or worse, remembered.

However, as I work in HR, the most I can do now is to blog now, and occasionally tell stories to friends whom I talk to. Most of the times, laziness stops the stories being posted to the blog. However, I have quite a few to tell, and they have been asking to be let out.

So here's the deal. I will post some words i happened to hear, each from real life, that had stuck with me in the past few weeks. You tell me about which ones you want to know more. And I will write a story on demand, inspired from the life behind those words.

'You dont answer a question, you provide a message.'

'That's so easy, so Im choosing the difficult option.'

'Why does there have to be something involved?'

'We change. But its upto us on how we change.'

'Boredom leads to suboptimal choices.'

'You did not know I was unhappy?'

'Life teaches in its own way.'

'This is not nice to me.'

'There is no pressure.'

'Let's make babies'


So tell me, which of these do you want to feel more about?

Travels around the reality

I have been reading Terry Prachett's books on Discworld.

It has been some kind of an addiction.

Mr. Prachett was introduced to my by his writing partner Mr. Gaiman, whom I met accidentally in one of the public libraries in Finland where I was looking for Bruce or Clark to hang out with. He took me - actually, gave me a visa and a set of unimited open tickets - to Discworld.

And I have been dropping in, ever since. They are all flawed in one way or other, they behave uncannily like some people I know or some people I could become, and they are all fighters in their own way. They do not wimper ( may be except for Angua ) when they are down and out, they fight, and if all hope is lost, they go out in style ( Unity). They understand that doing the right thing does not necessarily mean doing the nice thing.

I had a short stop at Chicago, to meet Vilma and Roxie. After the musical, I have resolved to earn up and spend money on such experiences more. Them too, fighters. May be not as moral as Captain Carrot, but valiant fighters. I like them too.

Like Mr. Vims and the Black Ribboners, I too am taking it one day at a time, one step at a time. And I plan to channel my inner Esme, especially when it comes to matters of ridicule.

Ours is not to reason why....

... but we can always wonder why.....

People always assume that anyone not following their life choices are making a mistake ( or at least missing out on what life has to offer).

So many otherwise impeccably dressed men here think having their hair styled like the rest of the guys in a birds nest style make them stand out.

Petite girls mostly have Labradors, German Shepherd's and Huskies, while men who make the Rock look like a wimp have pocket dogs in pink collars.

We are not willing to give what we would like to receive.

We lie when their lies fall apart around us so easily.

We insist on absolutes when we live in a relative world.

- On that note, goodnight folks!

Walk in the night

I am a huge fan of walks in the night.

The roads glow orange. The streets are silent. The pathways show insomniac bunnies hopping away. There are not too many bugs to crowd around your head. The ducks and migratory water birds all sleep, their head tucked in between their wings and floating gently like diyas with the fire put out.

In a night walk, you can share the silence or reject a conversation. Words and feelings flow more freely, may be a bit more than what you would have been comfortable in the day light. Life is more clear, decisions come to you fare more easily, when you sit upon a cliff and look up at the stars.

Every step you take is an adventure. There are no lights, only shadows, and you feel your way around than seeing it. The wind is chillier and more sneaky, finding its ways to be closer to your body despite being fully covered.

The city lights reflect on the low clouds. One the walk back home, you have a little more time to think about the strangers who speed away on their vehicles, think about their stories.

And old songs come back to you, which you sing enthusiastically off key, comfortable with yourself and with the sweet mite of a girl who is a new friend.

Filler

Life, as of now is....

... of telling stories. For fun, necessity and by compulsion. Arabian Nights redux? May be. Or may be not.

... about making my moral compass - for the time being, at least - a comic book about Anti Christ which says : 'First, do no harm.'

... about expanding my freedom by letting go of a lot of baggage, allowing my feelings to wash over me like a wave without loosing my footing and flirting a bit with my fears.

... about keeping my mouth shut about myself, my work and the problems of others.

... of being doubted by someone about something which I didnt do. why do people assume that their petty self deceptions interest me? Amuse, yes. Interest enough for me to get involved, no.

... of vivid images inside my head and hazy talk inside my ear.

Am I happy? Yes. Completely.

Could I be happier? Definitely.

And so, life is good.

Happy times

I feel happy. Actually, I feel happier.

So what caused it?

well...

The viral campaign over the new batman movie, maybe? Love the fact that someone finally got it right. You can read about it here.

The sun. The sun is so bright that it is almost like a divine presence. May be this is a day when the gods walk the earth, at least in Finland

The top gear sound tracks. Edgy enough without loosing the happiness.

A walk, soon to be had, through my favorite walking route.

New friends.

A horde of books home, from the public libraries.

And two days of weekend.

What more do I want?

The newest words of angel

Am reading Brida.

From a website.

Of the publisher, which complied with the authors wishes.

An author who encourages piracy.

An author, who is 60 plus and yet is younger than many of us.

As I feel more alive than before, what better book to start on than the story of a woman who wanted to learn more?

And it happens again.

Metamorphosis

After one of my so called bouts of stupidity, I have decided to quit being a nice Indian girl, and live life a bit on the edge.

No, this does not mean bungee jumping - Im still afraid of falling.

This means that my inner Charlotte will be making way for Samantha. Ive been too mice, too naive, and now Im out to have my pound of fun and some more.

As a Charlotte, I was an incurable romantic, willing to put the other person before me, and thinking up excuses in my head for them.

As Samantha, I can be myself, kick men in the ass when they try to play me, and just have fun being myself.

And if and when I find some one really, really special, I might let Charlotte out a bit, now and then.

Mission : Impossible

So I was told that I will finally make my parents proud: I will go to US of A; and that too, New York.

Coming from a land full of engineers and doctors, USA is considered as the promised land. There were many who wondered aloud that they have never heard of a state in US called Finland. "Surely you don't mean Cleaveland?" They queried.

If you cannot go to India, the next best option is to go to USA to meet with family and friends. Friends from the past, their counterparts, new friendships in the making, new circles to be forged. Relations. to meet a nephew by blood, a brother in law I have never met face to face, to meet other smaller nephews and neices by love; stronger than the blood bonds.

Also, the chance to have some real sun, a real holiday. With friends. Wine tasting in Napa, shopping, the beaches, the museums, treks, hikes and shopping some more.

I am what they call wheatish in Indian matrimonial columns. I call myself dusky, with pride, and there were many times when i saw ( to borrow a red Indian term) the pale faces look at me and my tanned skin with envy. So in the morning when I stepped out to go to the embassy, and in the tram when a Nordic God with deep blue eyes and hair like the shining sun asked me if I was from Middle east or Egypt, my inner cat purred, but just gave a tiny smile and shook my head no.When I stepped out of the tram to my destination, he waved me goodbye with a slight smile, which I would like to think was tinged with regret. Any other day, I would have jumped back to the tram ( I am nothing if not impulsive ) to exchange numbers, but not today. Today, NewYork and California were beckoning, and blue eys became yet another unknown stranger.

The embassy reminded me of a prison. huge walls, guards, security cameras. I was called for the debriefing. And asked about myself. What do I do? Why do I have this contract and not anything else? How long have I been working for my company? How come my MBA is only for two years? ( at that question, i peeked a look at his ID badge and indeedy, he is an American - and then the way he has been asking questions made sense).And what did I do for my under graduation?

I did engineering.

Oh!

And what did you do it in?

I knew I would regret telling him it the moment the words were out of my mouth.

Electronics and Telecommunication. ( also known as branch of engineering which teach terrorists to make bombs)

He practically shoved the form which said that it would take at least a month for my visa to my hands. And all but shooed me out of the place. One month. At least. My managers letters didn't mean zilch to him. Nope.

I came back, opened my laptop and canceled all conformed meetings at work and with friends. And then I tried to answer their questions about my non existent research and publishing of papers without any sarcasm and as much clarity as possible. I was especially stumped by the last question, where like a nosy relative whom one particularly dislike, they wanted to know what I wanted to do with my life and how long I plan to be in this country.

Nordic Gods, the next time any of you walk up to me and compare me to the beauties in Arab nations or in upper Africa, I am gonna give you a tight kick in the ass.I know its unfair, but don't think kicking the visa guy would have really helped.

John Mueller's theory

If you are a geek, chances are you have heard about Skirmisher. They call themselves "Mad. Filthy. intriguing."

And they posted this gem from John Mueller on Rambo.

Laugh laugh laugh

After removing a drunken post from my other blog - nope, you dont know where it is. And if you ask nicely, you may get it. Actually, mostly you wont unless our only connection is via the blogs - and where were we?

Yup; after removing a drunken post from my blog - oh, c'mmon extended family and old friends, stop being so shocked - i was depressed. Then I ended up in this blog, where the author had posted a hilarious video.

That really did not tickle my funny bone, so I googled a few of my favorites and sent them to him. And at the end of all the watching, I was laughing. Again. Awesome!

What is a better tag than one where you ask readers to post five videos that crack you up anytime you see them?

These are mine:


5. The younger brother of Ticktickticktick... :)



4. Jolene, Jolene, Jolen Joleeeene.....



3. Eeeeeeeeeeef you come todaaaaaaay....



2.Shut your F.... :)



1. Welllllllllllll......



Thats me. Always a sucker for bathroom humor. Its a good thing I dont have any kids with this sense of humor. What good mom will laugh at these?

Love's Labor Salvaged

There is an episode of HIMYM where Ted realizes that Robin's dogs were all gifts from her ex boyfriends.

So gals; and guys; let us look at the happy stuff : Yeah they were idiots to leave us/ nor reciprocate our crushes ( includes the preschool ones too) . Yeah they lead boring or unhappy lives now. Yeah, we will have our days of glory and will have our happily ever after.

So, being not bitter and being fabulous and magnanimous and all, lets take a look at the good things that we got and cool habits that we picked up. Five of them the max. Btw, saying "I learned how to identify an a$$h¤l£ doesnt count. Lets be positive here!

Here is my list:

1. American Dad: I was way away from home, and I met this cute guy who absolutely loved American Dad. But despite being introduced to the Smith family, we broke up.

2. A coffee mug: I stole it from one of my major crushes. Stole as in; took it and told him I was going to keep it.

3. Trekking: I realized I have the stamina to trek all day when we went trekking in Chirapunji. He was the trek organizer.

4. Books: From the coffee mug guy and the trek guy. Again, stole them; and explicitly told them that they are not getting them back. Aaah... the good times... ( wrt free books, not wrt lousy emotional choices)

Yup. Thats about it.

So... whoever reads the blog, do compose your list, and let me know by dropping a comment here.

Tagz!

Tagged by Usha... feel free to think about this...

Caveat: I will not mention about - well, if you know it; i dont have to say it here; if you dont, you dont have to know it.


I am:happy.

I think: mostly logically; and allow impulse to take over the reins once in a while...

I know: things aint that important... :) well, except for a few things anyway...

I want: to soak up the sun in a cotton dress, which doesnt seem to happen in Finland :(

I have: great friends

I wish: for a bunch of roses with heady fragrance.... cant pick them from the parks here... and the ones in flowershops doesnt smell... :(

I hate: people taking me for granted

I miss: monsoon and mallu food...

I fear: falling from great heights. Most of my nightmares are around that.

I feel: peaceful

I hear: wind

I smell: hot tea and my basil plant

I crave: for hot tapioca with grounded green chilli & small onions, with a bit of oil n mustard powder

I search: at the drop of a hat

I wonder: how it would be in California ( well, will mention it just once!)

I regret: wasting my time on duffers.

Though I wouldn't really like to acknowledge it, and convince myself that I shouldn't really regret.. For all those actions shaped me into this person that I am proud of. ( copied this from Usha)

I love: good blogs, dogs and kitties, humor ans sarcasm where it is deserved.

I ache: naah, im good.

I care: more than I show.

I am not: perfect.

I believe: I believe. Period.

I dance: when Im comfortable with my surroundings.

I sing: when Im happy.

I cry: when I feel frustrated.

I don’t always: act the same way.

I fight: for my loved ones.

I write: when I feel like it.

I win: Signed out of the win-lose games long ago.

I lose: See above.

I never: believe in absolutes.

I always: see above.

I confuse: a lot of things.

I listen: a lot of things.

I can usually be found:at work or at home; when Im not at other places.

I am scared: of losing my chances and living to regret it.

I need: faith - in myself, in you, in the world.

I am happy about: the fact that I can be happy, and my happiness depends on me.