A new leaf!

Agra's Taj Mahal is real and beautiful.
Saw some pics mom got from her trip will be posting one of em here. She had the flash on, even after the one hour training I gave her. hehe, she'll catch on.But I am so glad, her pics look just as beautiful as the Taj. My Mom the real Mumtaz, for in her world, she is really the greatest :)

***

When you close your eyes, and listen closely to Dido's voice, it sounds like you are sitting by the shore, and soaking in the songs of the waves. It's like your conscience is singing. It's your inner self.Even if it's not yours. She is surely singing mine. :)

New songs, eh?
It's Hard Sun, by Eddie Vedder, powerful and exotic, and the voice of Vedder has the same power and the passion.Simply fabulous.Makes you weak in the knees, and the intellectual brain takes a rest, or rather gets invigorated at the most creative approach to life. The guitaring is simple strumming and the breeze moves with a force that baffles you, and you simply gape in awe.

My favorite part of the lyrics :

Once I built an ivory tower
so I could worship from above
when I climb down to be set free
she took me in again

Vedder rocks!


Listening to the new album by Collective soul : Afterwords

New vibration and a couple of songs are really beautiful. NV is reminiscent of Heavy, but Heavy rocks forever. But NV is a good feel, its a fresh feel of Heavy and its always great to be hearing collective soul again!

***

Advertising is crazy, makes you THINK!

***

Salman Rushdie, I know him since 40 pages. He is quite a writer, only because I can picture him talking and jumping from one topic to the other. But I cannot see him. He gets lost in a minute. I have to yet discover him.

***

Che Guevera sits on my shoulder, it's a tattoo I got my bag, and now many more will follow. If not motorcycle diaries, then it will be something I yearn for and find. One day, I will have it.The search is definitely on.

***

Ok one important news is that Shreeja is finally going to be a part of the Kanoria family. A perfect consummation, to a perfect start.
P.S : Shreejey, Me loves ya very much!

Astalavista!

On the other side of 30

It's been a while I have posted here. What shall I write? Where shall I begin? Past few days, I've had them all to myself. Though dreamily waking up only with spasms of cough that i leap to my feet, and instead of welcoming the beauty of the blue sky, I am unable to smile because of the sadness within. Getting lost, minute by minute. For a while I know where I am. Know what I am doing. Happy with my work. But there is always something missing. Losing my youth? Is it alrite?

But am I learning more about being old. About, sadness. About the loss of youth in my youth. The reflections. Yes, I am learning that. I have seen someone swallow his sadness in coming to terms of old age, someone agree disbelievingly, with tightly shut eyes, that youth does, really does go away, leaving that little finger only for another little finger to grab hold of that one, a child's little finger. Saw men, struggle with existence of some. Curb their enthusiasm because of someone's dictatorship. Listen to someone else's songs as they soothe them, while others wring their hands in agony, and always wondering, and expecting, of a new day to come.Maybe being 30 is about compromises, coming close to one another despite misunderstandings, being young forever in the hearts,but still being the same person. Is it possible? Intrinsically. When you meet them at the right time at the right place. At that right moment, when that beautiful note hits them. They probably know where they are going, carrying that stash, and hungrily grabbing at it,while they sulk in one of their cubicles, wondering about life.

oh here's something i have been wanting to send as my resume! :)

myoclonus within my synapse

Listening now to whimpering and crooning sounds of maroon 5 and james blunt. breaking the clutter with screams and howls..no one can reach the radiohead, no one can fathom the betrayal of pearl jam. no one can understand this, now. the present.Weaving happiness all around you, becoming mystical now, my hand moving at a rhythmical pace, or is it mechanical. online friends, type , smiles..haha...oh cheesy, cheeky, sly...eventually, eventually...a death..creeping death..evil mind...reaching down...to the abyss, where my heart lies...now its cold, so cold, i feel it inside me..the lacerations, bearing fruit, unfathomable spirit, breaks down into a million pieces, gonna get up, wake up to the menace, say no, say no...now you can't do anything about it. drop the gamble, feel me, hear me out.

its out in the open, an earthquake, brings forth your spirit, and you soar, you sacrifice and no one realises, what you've actually given up, a part of me , a part of you. Excuses take form of addiction and well, they become you...walk away, again, don't turn around, statue!

you've turned to stone, told ya not to turn around.

scream, scorned.

no one's listening to the grief within.

breathe. slowly. now, its coming inside.

l...i...f...e....

Ask yourself. Do you really belong. such an effort. is it worth it?

Maybe, we should just say a goodbye, and get over with it, guitar riffs we never unduzzstood. we dont seem to care of the snares or the drums...bio rhythms..uncanny souls, a dip into the sea...to neverland. No more quietness will be heard. No one cares.
Caught up in the web. Struggle has been fruitless..given up. no more now.

Reminiscings

walking in the abyss. a forked path, take the one less travelled. get lost in the abyss. going furthur down. meet hellraisers. send me up. I float, pushed down into the fire. Burn, burn, burn. to ashes. Maxim, the first name on the cross,you see as you enter the graveyard. smell of dried fish. something, dead. something decayed. soul. now equals to ether. the passion reads off the lips of a sufi saint. A passion understood by two souls, not recognised by one as love. A distance of time doesn't separate two souls, indifference does. A feeling, morbid, a feeling distant. A never ending search. A search found by a man in a woman. The most beautiful gift, they both receive in the form of love, friendship and passion.

walking away now, for these thoughts torment me. My years of gravel have cemented these thoughts, and now the soul can do without the physical, the memories are themselves wholesome beings. I have empowered them.

I weep at the thought.

I was reduced to, by the prejudices.

Its hard to keep an open mind, we try. But its hard to keep an open mind.

Amen

Time has passed into oblivion, and upturned that stone, and now the stone has molded, it is now a pebble.

People who are subjected to hurt, n' number of times. Do you think they ever feel the kindness that comes later in their life or do they stop loving god. Or do they take their life as a mere existence and continue to live. Like you. Like me.
Life goes on. But, for whom, for that lifeless soul. And it waits on them, who take their own time to get back to life, and its pleasures.

***

A chinese song has its own soft -pop melody, maybe south asians truly know the meaning of love, and are not inflicted by circumstantial lesbianism/gayism. That's how I'd like to term it. The songs, mostly like their love songs seem like they are sung, while walking on water, lucid, smooth and indepth.

***
Work being approved is like a blessing, that has the power to raise your confidence from the abyss, to a comforting cushion, where you have time to nurse those wounds, which you received when you took that plunge.


***

Advertising world is crazy.

***

UP bhaiyas or Uttar hindustanis, oh yeah, 35 lakh in Mumbai city alone.And most of them are those rickshawalas. Well, they'll know one thing for sure, while their first month in bombay; their customers love to have a conversation. Talking about the pathetic state of things in the city, is the best topic, to have them converse in.

***

Reading is a good habit. Only when nothing else is interesting.

***

Exercise is when you start to sweat, and strolling in the park is not called an exercise!!

***

Obituary: Venkatesh Gdwr
You had a lot of love inside you, which you even showed, to your family, and those who came to visit you.

But you taught one important lesson: If you don't save. You die a merciless death.

enituoR.enituoR.enituoR : That's what life has become.

Its happy diwali

and I am not in the mood to celebrate, with grandpa not here, its a little damp. i smile, I talk, I weep when I see movies, but its not the same. There's grandpa right in front of my eyes. drifting. Smiling, forever smiling. And always in my heart.


I have moved on. Thankfully. I was evading from a gruesome attack that had plagued me but I am out of it now. And on the path of self renewal, a few old familiar faces keep me company and let me drift in this life. Exploring. Finding curiosity in a child's eyes, is most amusing to me. It wraps my heart with such fondness that I seem to be falling in love with kids at first sight. I was a kid once, and I am still a kid now.

Thoughts of food entice me, and that seems to be the only instant gratification I have found besides music and movies.

Maybe now is the time to really create. I will make these 3 days really memorable, I promise.

Today, a familiar face stood in front of me, hanging by the handles of the train.And neither of us, wanted to know what we both were upto. We didn't care. I smiled at the circumstance, but I was never a good friend of hers. But the formality, we thought wasn't required. I have gained weight, and she on the other hand looked quite fit, but troubled. Doesn't everyone of us look wearisome, after a hard day's toil. Maybe the life in Bombay is making us, machines, a well-oiled machine with no sentiments left...

I happened to remember I had the 'Dombivali fast' Cd with me, and it so happens that my Mom was really eager to see it for quite sometime now, so well, in the CD went, and boom the movie began. Sandeep Kulkarni stars in the film, and the film cruises with such dexterity, that you are astonished at the wit and exactitude of the dialogues, there's no doubt that he's a theatre actor. The feel, the passion. Brilliant. A few Marathi movies have been able to achieve such repertoire. It is one of the excellently directed and well performed movies of all time for me. It's something like Nayak, starring Anil Kapoor. However Nayak, was a movie that strengthened hope while this one, slaps you with practicality.It is so heartrending, to see a Mumbaikar who is fed up, actually emerges from the sea of people that walk the crowd and grabs your heart, squeezes it so hard that it hurts, the monstrosity does. But that hand leaves and you sink back into your chair with thoughts whirring in your mind, and you just wonder. What now.....What now?

Sandeep Kulkarni, I have heard also stars in a Marathi play called Aamchya Gharat, and I was 10 years old when I saw it, at a Ganeshotsav Mandal in Lokhandwala.I still remember the intensity. I would love to see it again.

And on the office front, I realised that I proved today that I was a true blue movie buff. And I deserve a trophy. Well, all in all, a decent end to a fairly good start.

Faith departed. Has it happened too soon?

Faith.
I have lost faith. would that also mean passion? yes. I have officially lost it.
Ok. Human nature is predominantly and is unabashedly ruled by Desire.And if you stare even for a second around you, you will see people battling for a bargain, saving money, using it for another of their artificial necessities. You don't stop. And when you do, you begin writing this piece like I am doing right now, to get it off your chest. To contemplate and find an answer. And most of you just don't. Because there are a lots of things to do. I had them too, but seems like I lost my path, and no one showed me the way. To get away from it all we listen to songs. Most songs we hear, are always melancholic, sad or contemplative, wondering, most times I am trying to picture someone who could fit that song, how am I supposed to relate to it otherwise? So the ones don't fit in. I just don't listen. That's how you ask your friends to help you with a good set of contemplative songs/ ghazals / happy/ fun/ sleazy/ songs, so that they elevate that mood for you.That's the way it works. But songs are one of the best temporary solutions you can find, besides shopping and food and friends. I saw this movie, the other day, Pursuit of happyness. It's a briliant story, and I want to feel that way. I really do. But my faith has departed. It's hard to bring it back, I need to live for something, that truly means something to me, and once I do, maybe I should find it sooner, or else it will be too late.

* Ironically as soon as I posted this, my player sang this song " AAshayein" from the movie Iqbal :)

Maybe there's still hope left, or I just need to wake up to find that spirit.

Today is the day when I clean my keyboard. :)

This is to remind me, to take care of somethings left undone.

Another uneventfuls

ok ok. won't discuss supernatural powers or anything like that or the Sahaja yoga....damn! but I discovered something, that is important to me. And there, I don't care what you think. Thank god! WE CAN'T SEE GOD, OR I'D BE RATHER BORED BY HIS DIKTAT, AND I WOULDN'T HAVE HOPE LEFT!

Anyways, it was a relatively fine day. I am quite close to being broke, that's probably why I shun the roadside bhel. I live a normal life, get excited on fridays, spend weekends contemplating about anything under the sun, then give a lazy stretch on sunday nights, and sulk at the thought of mondays. Bas, nothing great has happened in this Creative's mind so far. I just love cooking up whacky ideas, that only a few intelligent people like me get( hehe). Guess what?! I SAW AN AD FROM THE New York festivals, and my idea was in there. Damn, isn't that great?! But my boss knows, and well forget about it, I don't want to tell you how it went, because it doesn't matter, because he dint make a big deal out of it. Damn! anyways, maybe a lil moreeeeeeeeee hardwork, should be applied, to win this war.

HMPF! G'nite and really good dreams, but not so good, that they'd make you want to sleep even more, to get that one nice smooch from that love you recently found interesting ;)

Au revoir!

Some things left to be said.

I had wanted to write this piece for a long time. I didn't get a chance to. I enjoyed every bit of the escape I had desperately wanted to achieve. And even put my 'passion' at risk. and went to an Alumni party.
It was fabulous. Because there were a few familiar faces. Thats the beauty of life. when you get to smile at a person, and he/she smiles back.It's beautiful. We shed our inhibitions, I let the rum take the better of me and gave in to the lull of the music.It was grand.I did miss a few people. Yes Shreeja I missed you, very much. We just went crazy. The entire feel was more like, hey we are MICAns and its our party. Damn. It felt splendid. I haven't danced so much since I've been back. I recieved a call, from a very old friend of mine, and I felt a twinge of emotion that every Bridget Jones would feel. But Alas, every dog shall have his day.

Lesbians, gays what's the deal anyways? There's this one guy I know, who came out of the closet. Admitted it, in a cult magazine, and well, he's quite hot I must say. but then when you go deeper, you probably just don't realise, what they are talking about, until you're one of them. It came as a shock. But then, it was alright. It was about, just letting some things be. Not imploring so much, or giving so much thought to it. Sexual attraction or lust, they are relative. friendship and love, they are too, but whats the validity? When do you realise you're gay, a touch, a look. Is it just hormones. Is it convenience? Is it ridiculous, or is it just normal?

I found the answer to life, the other day, while I pondered and discussed with my mom and hten told Dad, he said, he'd be back with an answer in 2 days, today was Day 1, i am waiting for Day 2. When he actually puts up a fight. When I had the answer to the purpose and the working of the universe, I felt empty, like after this, what? And my head started aching tremendously. But I still have a job to do. I have to go on living.

:) and a smile is the best way to begin a day right!

Prime Movie - 2005-* Meryl Streep, Uma Thurman, Bryan Greenberg

Saw this movie, on a lazy saturday afternoon, munching on lays and some Maggi.

It is a different take, as far as romantic comedies go.
Meryl Streep, acts as a Shrink, who lives a strict, conservative Jewish life. Her son, whose life seems to be suppressed, is caught in the daily trials of living a Jewish life and the Great American dream. Uma Thurman, has recently been divorced, lives the life of a model producer, in sexy Manhattan and is looking for love, and surprisingly, finds it with a 23 year old. I won't reveal the plot here.

If you're a perspective movie-watcher , you'd like the movie. Uma Thurman's visits her shrink, and like all people, she loves to go in great detail, about every aspect of her monotonous, sad life. Well, and the poor shrink has to just humour her. And she does. She does a perfectly good job at it. Bryan Greenberg, is a young boy, who falls head over heels with Uma Thurman, when he meets her at a disco, she's his dancing queen. Well, he calls her up, they meet for dinner. She lets go, they kiss in the garden, while they discuss their age. And well, Kaboom! they are in a relationship. Brilliant, ain't it? Yes. She lets herself go, for a little bit of fun. And well, her Shrink leads her on. Everything is fine, Amazing sex, Amazing conversations despite the 14 year old difference. Boy 23, Girl 37. Well, mid life crisis, isn't bothering her so much. But, she isn't giving this relationship her all, that's her problem. She keeps asking her Shrink, if she's doing the right thing. Meryl Streep on the other hand, is caught in two different worlds, and she has to fight her own war, and she does it beautifully well(Man, I just love this woman!). David, learns and discovers himself. Uma, has a wonderful rebound period. And Meryl, she gets along, and life goes as planned for her, just the realisation changes her completely, maybe we all are learning.Thats what life is, an incredible experience!

I had fun, watching this movie. But, I writhed once. But it goes alright, something like "Little Children". But, I guess, America has much more mature thinking going around, than what they make us believe, but they do have their own share of Miss South Carolina's too.

Who are we to judge, some of my best directors come from the US. I am not complaining.


P.S: The point is, you watch the movie or not, it will just give u a peek in the life of those celebrities who are dating older women, and what their life could be like. Meaningful or just plain fun? Well, you decide.

And we raised the Trophy! not the finger ...lol

Ah We won! At last.

Yes, this is the wonderful game of cricket I am talking about.And India won. Finally.The crowd at Johannesburg was a mini India really, with flags unfurled, and the roar of an Indian cricket maniac reverberated in my ear even after the chaos had died down!Boy! it was a match to have " Not missed". It reinstilled my faith in this lethargic team, and I felt immense pride as the boys ran in the ground parading with my Indian flag. I normally don't watch cricket matches so much, but a match with Australia and Pakistan and Sri Lanka are one of those that Keep me hooked on to the Television set.







This match had me and my mom in splits. Coz of nervousness, of course. Its funny how, when when Pakistan could have easily scored those 158 runs, nobody could do a Yuvraj, by giving 6 sixes in an over.We changed the channel, when 7 balls were left, to Sony Pix, where this fat old guy from Robin Hood's team falls into a puddle, and starts struggling and only when Robin helps him up, he says thank you for saving my life. LOL. We couldn't stop laughing. We waited for shouts to emerge, to know if someone had taken a wicket. And in a minute or two we did. We swapped the channel to ESPN, and there it was written, in quite modest letters: India win by 5 runs. Oh it looked so brilliant.




One thing for sure. The captain of the Pakistani cricket team, when he comes to the podium,after receiving his medal, to chat with Ravi Shastri, he thanks the Muslims in the world,And when Irfan Pathan comes to chat with Ravi, he says, Insha allah, as he began saying his thank you. Its like God was on both the sides. It was only the skills that mattered today,and a little bit of luck.


I must say, hats off to Dhoni, for being a wonderful Captain, with an aggressive spirit and a steady mind.

Keep making us proud, as they CHAK DE INDIA!

P.S: Shahrukh Khan was there to cheer on, but the boys surely took the limelight, and SRK looked like one happy Indian, who couldn't contain himself as he lifted Harbhajan paaji up in the air!

I am just talking whatever is in my head right now, thats all.

Stretch. Pull your arms at the back, give that lazy smile, and return to the normal position. WOW. that feels real good, right?
Ok, Have bunked worked today, and the inspiration has not only come from avoiding the unwanted puddles that reside at the station, with peoples spittoon mixed in them, the dirty platforms, educated women who cud easily be recruited in the profession of fisher folk, its also my Boss. Its annoying. To face all this and then get comfy in at your desk, where the only people you find yourself reciprocating with are your 30-something colleagues. There is a grand desire to stop and stare at the computer and listen to the silence. Which is often and most occasionally being disturbed by the unnerving, unstable, and hyperactive copywriter. Yes, that would be me. Wow, but being a copywriter who writes about medicines and advertises them to just make a hit with the doctor. let me tell you, that advertising is a lot more than what we do here. We are merely the super puppets of our servicing agents who are the puppets of the clients. My servicing head is really impressive, sometimes I think that he's more smarter than my Boss...lol.

***

But you don't expect an agency looking like a you'd be walking in the emergency room next.Thats what my wonderful little world where I spend my 13 hours of my life at, looks like. Yea, I have a handful. And well, each day, I just possibly try to get along. And it hits you, when your work isn't approved, or more likely not liked as to the tuning of your servicing people's inclinations.Yea, well who cares really? I do, becoz my job is on the line right. One of the agencies who happens to pay a lot more to copywriters. A hell lot more. So the question should be. We are such suckers for money. Haven't we all heard. Money makes the world go round. Nah not only that.

Money makes your world, lick you, walk with you, walk behind you, trail you, fan you, call you for meetings, parties, heck even for conversations, so that they get some dope on your basics, or where u learned them from. Bastards. Liars. Hell, who cares of such fake people. We rather leave them at the doorstep and never meet.

I walk this world with my head held high, and when I remember things that have hurt people, I realise I am just human, and walk away with a little guilt in my heart.

profound eh?

Bah!

Why am I here?

OOOhh here it comes.I have said it. Have been doing a little philosophising lately. Oh don't we all?Life and Death. The eternally mystifying question. But I have stopped thinking about it, only to realise that I can't make my head work at it anymore. Thinking about it 24/7 anyone can worn oneself out. I have been beaten by this question a hell lotta times. Its like trying to solve a geometry problem, only you don't know the step by step procedure for it.

In this Spanish movie, I forget the name. A man who has been paralysed for 28 years,and who seeks euthanasia, is given a deadly medicine, by his best friend and lover. She quietly asks him, facing the most beautiful view,he would have ever seen in his entire life. And whispers; " When you die, would you come to visit me in my dreams?" And to that, that old sprightly man replies, "Dear, I would come to you in your dreams and slip under your sheets and make wonderful love to you. But, to tell you the truth, I believe that After Death, there is absolutely nothing. Man comes from nothing and goes to nothing. He is alone when he enters the world and alone when he leaves it."(The quote is not exact, yet i have tried my best to tell you what he meant, with the help of lyrics of Outlandish song- Walou)At that, his lover is taken aback, yet hugs him.

This is what I believe too.

We meet several hundreds of people everyday. School, college, work, neighbours, work colleagues. What is the point? There is no point to any of it. But maybe just maybe. We get along with a few, and only those who stick to our hands like the grains of sand as it leaves our fist, those are the truly good ones, who have come to tolerate us.

For they are the ones, who truly love.

Hitchhiking to America on a Borivali local

I am on the road, with Jack.
Jack who? Jack Kerouac, of course.

He is an American novelist who started the 'Beat generation', in fact the most innovative travel writer of all times. The book On the road is simply lip smacking, literally. I have never enjoyed any book so much as this one. Let me elucidate.
I love traveling. I have hardly gotten out of Maharashtra, been to Gujarat and the south. But never really just traveled. And what liberation you feel to be out there ...3000 miles away from the author's home, on his journey,and yet still come home to eat mom's home cooked meal :)
I have experienced raw America in the past 2 weeks and yet sadly have been able to cover only 60 pages of exhaustive traveling. I have known the people ' Sal' is crazy about.By Sal I mean, Sal Paradise, who is in fact 'Jack'. Dean in particular, who Jack is fascinated about.Dean is Neal Cassady in real life. Dean is someone, you are going to be in awe of, especially if you relate to the author. I do. I think the writer thinks exactly like me. He loves the people who love life. Or if the life seems tragic they run to find adventure. Well that's how life should be right. Well, its just perfect spontaneity. Only I wish I could have done that exact same thing. I will, soon. Give or take a year or two.

There is one particular quote I really like;

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"

This book is a rare find, and well not everyone can find it in Mumbai.If you do then mail me.PLEASE!
I have been trying to get this book since 2 years,and I stumbled on this site that has a wonderful 178 pages pdf. And every night while I leave work, I make it a point to get a print on 10 pages, which I use on the reverse the next time, so that i am not wasting pages, and my journey from Mahalakshmi to my home has been in fact, California to Arizona to Denver to New York. And it has been adventurous and simply marvellous. So if you're interested in taking a look at the beat generation and the wonderful life that's out there. Read this book. It's worth any dope that would give you a high. It's worth giving up your favorite anything, just... only just to live life like a free man / women.

Here's the link if any one of you wants to go for one helluva ride:

http://www.scribd.com/doc/15803/On-The-Road-Jack-Kerouac

Fruitful weekend!!!

I am positively proud of myself.

Enjoyed my weekend with a couple of friends, where the chocolate avalanche ended up tasting like roach-shit...Belch! I know, I know. I am sorry, this was supposed to be a very good post. damn. Should I delete it. Nah, I'll keep it.
Just to remind ourselves about the most loved Ratatouille...lol..

Very old friends meet. They talk. There's just so much of talking to do, its like walking on sand. And while you walk you dig in your Big Toe, and then you slide it in the sand, and write someone's name, or yours...and smile and enjoy your scribbling and swaying...and that's what the conversation was about, two hours, of pure bliss. Skimming surfaces, went deep only once, for the insomniac story. To be best friends and still have lust in your eyes. Love is that, isn't it?

A wonderful morning breakfast with my brother and an animated movie, with the best seats, and when you enter the theatre, it greets you with my brother's favorite song and follows with mine...Anything done spontaneously strikes luck.

Beautiful weekend.Really.

Loaded with fun!

so much has happened last week, that I am actually tired of jotting everything down.piece by piece.But I'd always love to give it a try, won't I. Yes I would. This is a new blog,and well I want to update it regularly. Not crib. For cribbing I have another blog. Lol. Wow, isn't internet largely composed of people bickering at the end of their blogs. Pukes of inherent angst. darn!

Well, I will try my best to not sway it that way, rather I'd try zapping you ridiculous again. That'd be easy.hehe

Alright. Leaves of grass has entered my shelf. Read a couple of verses. Bold I must say. Emerson, really "dug" all this.hmm....I need to have a keen studied angle before I give my comments. I need to be joining British Library soon. It'll be wonderful.Drowsing in the wonderful carpeted area. Ooh just perfect.I could catch up on my Iris as well, oh and Virginia is stacked just near by. What Life!
I have another vintage collection of poetry, with Sylvia Plath's razor sharp verses..I'll find her there as well.Hmm..I should be looking forward to it in fact. I am, just that I have no time, next month I will for sure.

I have been stealthily reading On the road again.
I have admitted it. the idea was to read one book at a time. Man. Am I doing that. No. i am also reading Scarlet letter. Boy,i was once warned to not read so many books, or the essence flies off. It probably has. Custom house officers harking a poor lil prostitute with staunch morals and her child to misery.It's an excellent read. 'Elite' jeez. I hate the word, reminds me of the annoying sarcasm of Meryl Streep in Devil wears Prada, stop. stop. I like my life. Read, enjoy, and just be yourself. Don't ever put airs about you. The more comfortable you are. The more comfortable will you be with yourself.

On the road. That's where I want to be.
After reading that book...who wouldn't. Maybe the Radiator Springs is out there. And the one I went to was just an oasis, a flickering lie.

Movies. Yes.An update on what I have been enjoying in the theatres. An old acquaintance from old skool, and found that once upon a time, whom I thought resembled an Ally Mcbeal, french beaded character, has now become wonderfully rotund, with the French beard intact. Not so attractive. But hey, surely resembles the Indian born american desi, works in a call center by the way. And thankfully, I didn't see him wearing the most noticeable deliberate wardrobe dysfunction, which happens to be the underwear sticking out! He'd be the kind who woul dhave grown up to be something like that. Well, let me not make any judgements. But hey, he had come with his mum. How adorable!

Ahem.Coming back to the point.

It had to be Ratatouille.

Brilliant animation. Amazing, enjoyed every moment of it.But the story at the end, ouch mice in the kitchen. I' d rather scream if I saw a sight like that than go home and write a review on it :(

But you know something. Its about ' Anyone can cook' idea that struck me the most.Not that I am a great cook. i would hardly step into the kitchen. ...Well, I am changing that habit soon. The perception is this. French pride themselves in their oh-so-famous exquisite cuisine. But is it true that' anyone can cook'?. Only some people really can, and have the genius for it.

I mean: if you're screwing something up. And then a friend of yours adds his personal touch to your to-be-amazingly-screwed-up dish, and to use the french word here for pun Voila! It just turns out to be the perfect meal! Of course everyone can cook.But not everyone can make you remember the food like your mom makes it. And if they do, then check the kitchen, it might just be the house rat, for all you know!

;D

Life is good. Live like the french. Eat, drink, be merry.

A break from the wilderness

I took a holiday today...damn and was it good ?? yes of course. Especially the ones that are taken as surprises. i mean I bunked work today. Haha, seriously. And the lovely weather, so beautiful and some old hindi number playing in the background, just perfect!..had an amazing time, hanging out with mom in kalina university...aah made me remember that spiteful man, but hey overall the rating for today is 5 star!!!

Let see what's in store tomorrow...

Isolation

Zapped me alright.

I have been like this for 8 and a half months. And haven't shown any sign of improvement. I choose to laugha nd enjoy myself whenever I want to. But I have given up on myself. What does she know. What the fuck.

I am sorry. My errant behavior is the sign which I am coming to terms with.After i have been sliced into two, by an unaccepted unfeeling proposal meshed with misunderstanding. I have become a person with 2 left feet, who just jump around knocking me mindless. Let me elucidate. About 2 years ago, I have had a heart break. Well, it shouldn't have affected me much, but it did. And it leaves me zapped. Only because my ego has been the sole victim.

She would never understand. Parveen Babi, ya right.

I'd like to make a mention of the adjectives here: All copy paste.paranoid, misdirected, insensitive, hypocritical and over-inflated egos, insecurity-ridden, deprived, pitiful, petty mind


Isolated. Let me be. I will never ever want to talk to her again.

I have an entire article on me. And does it sound harsh, yes. And its horrible to know that. Oh another Aries down. Well how many have I got left? Oh that was the last one.
I knew 3 and every year I lose one. I think it calls for a celebration.I finally got away with it.

But it haunts me, it shouldn't.The farther you go, memories make your heart grow fonder bullshit, will continue to ring in my head. So where do we run? We sure can't hide.

what's the best way to unwind, among other things?

Let me know the cheapest. And no, don't tell me its food.
How do I get myself feeling buoyant after a hard day's work? I mean, I am in advertising right? Then how the hell do I make time for swimming or playing lawn tennis? What and how? I am not keeping fit at all. Damn. Sometimes, you really have to think things thru in getting your life into perspective. I know a few deadlines coming up next week,and I am not so glad about it. My work is going to get published , and it has a few times before,but I want something more. It has got to be in freelancing.

Getting back to the reason why I started writing this piece. I want something more in life that keeps me busy 24/7. Yes, that's it. I don't fancy taking calls, its like speaking into a small instrument and concentrating on it, its just not what I like doing. I rather be having conversation with the whole being. That's my pet peeve, so be it. Hmm. SOmetimes, I jsut think I need a change of place. Well, I did go to Ahmedabad didn't I. There are some really inspiring things hidden only for those who are keen on discovering Mahatma's cultural heritage. The drama, the naked truth. And those who do, leave that city pursuing great things. Or just end up in advertising like I did.
But advertising, shows us the glitz and glamour, but I don't think that creative people stop there. They surge forward, for there is always something more on the other side. By that I don't hint at the client's side of course. Its a hint at the other things that this world offers. Mostly travel and living channels. I'd love to be a cook. And well, work with Gordon Ramsay sure. Well, I'd love to learn scuba diving for once, and teach others how to do it. Before that I'd love to learn to swim. And how on earth am I going to find time for that. Life in advertising, leaves no space for other things. Now, I need to show passion, and I need that money.

Ah! Now I know, what Tendles meant.

Passion is everything.

For Bhau. To the one who is truly free.

Freedom. Its a big word. And not everyone has it.Truly ask yourself. From that bird in the cage, like that parrot who you taught to learn 'Meethu' or that housewife who is stuck in the rut with Ekta Kapoor's serials. All are jail birds. Freedom is tough even in these times. Even those children who go out and hang out with friends, but reach home before 7. Or those girls whose parents ask them to return home from work at 7 maximum 8. They leave their jobs in accordance with society. Who is free?
My Grandpa is.
He left for the heaven's on 14th August at 9:25 am.
He was an officer in the ST department. That runs buses across the state of Maharashtra. An excellent service then. We used to often ask Grandpa if he ever did any heroic activity in the years of the Raj. And he'd say, he didn't and would add. I had a family: I had to earn my living, to keep them alive. Not everyone participated in the freedom struggle. But 25 days before 15th August, I saw him struggle for his life. It hurt so much. Every day, he was in pain. After the surgery he didn't open his eyes. Only struggled to open them. He couldn't speak because his pain was excruciating.He was one hell of a fighter.

Shankarrao Kadam is his name. And he is the father of 2 sons and 3 daughters. And he has raised his family in honour. On his funeral quite a few admirable and respected people turned up.And we sat closely with him, touching his feet, caressing his forehead. We wanted him to say," Kashey aahat"? " How are you, my child?" and kiss us on our cheeks and smile and give a few words of wisdom. Since I was born. I remember my Grandpa, to be an aristocrat. He had a stately demeanour, and everywhere we went, that is to Pune, everyone respected this oldie. He was intelligent and loved thriller stories. He's read all novels I talke dof. ANd once I handed him The Da Vinci code. And he said, "Its too catholic for me and it doesn't interest me a bit". I ain't into thrillers so much. So I didn't know his taste. But I do know now, that Da Vinci ain't his cup of tea. He was handsome and he was clean. Spic and Span , was my grandfather. He would wash most of his clothes all by himself. Wear white pyjamas and kurtas. And would have his medicines on time. He would drink water from a Tamba, a copper vessel, and has been doing so since I can remember. He was a very important part of our life. And we all loved him. I took interest in the recent Sudoku games he would play. he would spend 15-20 min explaining to me about the tricks. And one day I gifted him, a book, which contained around 100 puzzles,which on my next visit I found him to have solved with pencil, so that I could erase the answers and fill them up myself.

He was a fantastic writer. For some of his writing I have it as a souvenir. What if they were only 2 pages.He had a beautiful handwriting. Confident,and calculative.
My other cousins have had the privilege to have known him quite well, because they lived i the same house as he. I consider them lucky. And myself, fortunate.
I have had a chance to be acquainted with only my grandma for a few years, and he sudden death, was a shock, and I remember her but only slightly. I remember that she remembered that I liked grapes so she would bring a whole bunch for me to finish. She was wonderful. My grandpa, was very happy then. I remember seeing both of them together. When she had done her cataract operation. Both sat side by side. It is a wonderful sight. Now he must be happy. He must be with his wife.My grandpa and grandma, weren't storytellers. They were caretakers of the household. My prime storyteller was my mom. And she has had told me around 900 stories, each night. The best mother any one could ever ask for. My dad, was the best motorcycle driver.Rash. But super fun.

I have had the most amazing childhood anyone could ask for. My grandpa, was awesome. For he would always bring us an 18 Rupees packet of Good-day,and then we would get it in a golden box, with cashew pictures all over it.And I and my brother would thank Bhau for getting it and run to the bedroom to eat it up. It was beautiful.
I have fond memories of him. And I have an immense respect for my grandpa. He was a genuinely great person. And he loved his daughters and sons and his grandchildren.


Bhau,love you forever

of manic mondays.

after a good rant. you do feel good right. yeah.
just like after you've worked your back off..literally speaking. you stretch those arms up high, wriggle a little, and then after that joyous feeling, go back to feeling exhausted again. brilliant.
Thats how I feel right now.
hectic day. loads of work. like always.
I miss my Macintosh from MICA. really.
I could have finished a lot of work, rather than just keep begging to a few people, who you don't want to bend down to. Damn. Maybe client servicing are not the only ones who get their ego hurt in unimaginable places. Its weird, but there is some kind of camaraderie among people at the workplace, or its just forced. No matter. The road is life.Jack Kerouac.

Unbearable lightness of being is a brilliant piece of work by Milan Kundera, very manly psyche.
Its funny how women have to accept some of men's enlightening moments that are in fact really pathetic, and I see no art in it at all. Its just a clever device that excuses men of philandering. Its a cleverly written book no doubt. But in parts its a Men are from Mars book, through and through.

I am now reading Nathaniel Hawthorne's infamous novel, the Scarlet letter, and the first few pages are a beautiful description of exceedingly measured copy.The description of Hester Prynne is beautiful, again here I talk of a prostitute in the 18th century era. The Boston tea party days. The beauty of a prostitute, like the one we saw in Chameli, of that of Kareena Kapoor. Its like saying, look at life from their POV. Or lets say, Tabu's acting in another prostitute's life story. I can't really say, what this book entails, as I have not read it. I am determined to write an essay in the coming days. And then maybe you can draw a critical sketch on what you presume to be a frivolous life of a prostitute. Here I am merely hinting, that it maybe much more than that.

All talk and no game.

one thirty am. that's when i learn to keep my mind at peace. Yakkity yakking 24/7 and look, now i feel so tired that i'd love to crash into deepest slumber. I would only get up the next day to cancel a few plans, becoz of a thrifty girl's spree. Big malls, really big. But infrastructure of the roads, pathetic. Highways, hardly 4-5. But innovation zero. What is wrong with Bombay? Everything. This city is Communist, Marxist. Truly. I believe so. Only because even an ICICI gold card member talks to the beggars and people from gullies like they were true friends. Wow. That is really something. Because I can strike a conversation with the bus driver of a BEST bus and discuss the situation of Bombay like we own the city. Well, all bombayites think they do. And if anyone who is new to the city and behaves like he owns it. Boy! are you gonna be in big trouble. No wonder I stayed back. I wasn't supposed to be here. I was supposed to be in Chennai, only to realize what fate had in store for me.

Talking of fate, yesterday, on one of the rare chances where I get to talk to my mom about the world and the logic with life. We hit upon an idea that Destiny is not quite true. Its actually probability. And the saying " the choices we make" is bang on target. Because we exist in that circumstance and that situation, because of the choices we have made. And that's how it is. There is a theory we conjured up. but its pretty petty to disclose here.So well, I shall keep mum. Grandpa is not well. And his health is deteriorating. We are all praying for him. And trying not to think more.

Need more compartments for women!

A first class pass costs up to 340 rupees and while a 2nd class would cost 95 rupees!
wow! its a huge difference of 250 rupees, really, the yellow colour thats painted inside is much classier than the boring green in the first class, at least I personally think so! The dark green is quite an eyesore. They could at least have put some happy colours in there. Bombay needs to change a lot. And the citizens need to spit a little less. And not litter at all. Glowering eyes don't work with women at all, becoz they'll look right at ya, with the same vigour. Damn. And men, well you rather just make horrendous faces and leave it be.

I was wondering, after reading one of the forwards, that Abdul Kalam's speech, with all due respect to the ex-president, and one of the really good men to come out after 40 years of elections, I wanted to ask Mr. Abdul Kalam that when he says that Indians won't spit in other countries because the law there is strict, and that why don't Indians follow the same rule here. Well Mr. President, I need to ask you something. Why doesn't the country put up police officers or junior officers in public places or places where the junta is in constant contact with the police men? The policemen can do their job of charging the spittoon creator with a fine of 500 rupees, and start doing it with immediate effect. Because for a country like ours, we can't afford beautiful roads, than how can we afford cameras to be placed in every nook and corner like the vigilance videos, and catch the culprit in the act, like Singapore does?

C'mon be practical. If the Arthur road jail is surrounded by 500 policemen, who are actually doing nothing, and watching people spit in front of them, and spit betel juice right under their noses. Then well, the law makers are themselves supporting this phenomena. I am sure, that your English speech must have gone on deaf ears, because those who spit and make reddish orange modern art drawings on the walls and pavements of the bombay promenades 90% are in fact from a vernacular background and how on earth would they know what the President is talking about? And those who are educated, they are all the more pathetic, they are a clear case of habit. And this case is more aggravating to the children who they bring up in the world a complete package, full of impeccable manners and etiquettes.Only to regretfully watch his mom, dad, uncle, spit in front of them time and again.
Boy! what a life!

Something should be done. I saw the movie Nayak. 2 years back. And sometimes I think.. We really need someone like that. Not a Hitler. Not a Mussolini. Not a Bush. Nor an Osama. We need Che Guevara.


This is young blood angst.
signing out.

On a more serious note.

Ok.
One fine day, naaah
One monday night, where you have spent all your day, slogging your brain off, working on creative "thoughts", you reach the platform,completely oblivious to what's coming next.
A 12 coach train stops by, after you've waited for 3 whole minutes, and you enter the second class, i have been warned by fellow inmates of my singlehood-traumatic-working-girl-group of girls, that the1st class is much better if you wish to deal with stress.
Here's the story.
We passed Bandra, and it announced 9:28 on the yellow blinkers that the world of Bombay easily reckons with. As we landed on Khar, Men stormed the 2nd class women's compartment. because after 9:30 pm, the women's dabba gets converted to a men's one, very conveniently,and as we women are docile and enjoy the peace and quiet in the train, trying to drown ourselves into the journey, or thinking about what the world doesn't care about >(like the way, a woman slipped the piece of plastic right out the window, once she finished eating her wafers, while I put my tissue in the bag to drain it off in my garbage bin) Oh yeah, and these men, jump right in, like its their right. And well, they are a bit careful, but there are also those, who want to string that little snake right into you.And as you get up, other docile creatures look up at you with fear in their eyes and you wonder why are these women, still hanging around,when they should just up and leave? But No, that would show their fear. And women aren't afraid. But thank you very much. I am. Truthfully, I am scared of that little snake, and, its silly, but I would spew abuses if anyone, especially on a railway station; would even try that on me. As I hung by the gates that opened to Hell(by Hell i mean the eager men, who are wanting to jump into the cold war area), I started on a spew of abuses that kept people at bay, and I was ready with a good strong umbrella to give a good hit, to where it hurt. Anyways, I became a shield for those women, who wanted to get down, and happily they did. i did too. Because men, understand the language of insult than a cajoling one, They have heard enough cajoling from their wives.

Bastards.

Being thrifty and other things

Yes I'm a spendthrift. I agree upfront.
I have always put in money, not to wait for it to get doubled, but before even it starts its venture in the savings account, i have to wade it right into my wallet.Stuffing it and emptying it, as if handling a railway ticket really.I am sorry, but i never really thought my job owned me, i never came around to thinking that. Mostly because I always had someone or the other backing me up, like my family and now my brother for instance. Bad attitude, Yes. I know, I don't know how to cope with it. I need some cure.Mainly because, I live everyday like it would be my last. No, I am not trying to mean what I just said, in a more philosophical way but, I really believe with the way things are going, marriage, growing up, behaving like you've just become superbly mature, and, the place where ewe live, its like an island waiting for a tsunami to attack to actually realise we are all going down. We in fact, even had a holiday, for the weird state of trains in Bombay. Water logging in railway areas, stops people from working!

I saw ICE AGE 2 today.
Damn, what a good movie.
And I nearly burst into tears when I realised that little fellow with the nut, whose name me Miss.Forgetful forgets, enters the heavens, where the skies are full of nuts.
What a great movie.

Recruiting new life

Rains.
They are one of those really trying times when you need to pull your pants up in folds, and take quick jumps to avoid dirty unstirred puddles or sometimes, unknowingly experience real cold water, with the muck dangling, which you shirk off with the most contorted of faces you can conjure up.

But sometimes,

you find one of those moments, where you can find yourself letting loose, leaving the troubles and you melt into the cloudy sky, that is gloomily hovering over you, and in your words it looks beautiful, and you look around, and see that you are the only one enjoying it. You smile, you walk and you let the day take control.


Frivolous times of the Youth do not flutter anywhere near the generation that has passed its adolscence and come into their twenties and become driven, dead sure, daring. They need money, and as Bob Dylan says, they have learnt one thing for sure, Money doesn’t talk, it swears.

As it rains like Cats and Dogs you wonder if every dog could have his day, and would today you be that dog, and not like other kitties, you want to miss that kitty party. Just one of those days, where you’d expect you to be the king, doesn’t every dog want to be the king? You want to be this amazing confident, person, and you want all hell to break loose, but when it does, you don’t want it to freeze over, because then you’ll be caught. And your secrets will be out. The ones that you hold close to your heart, and then you wonder what you could do. If someone finds out! What then? Oh what then? But you let it be. The world has a lot of gossip and problems on its own. Yours would be just another one. So you look at the misfortune and well, just drift. Call that mountain a molehill and move on. That’s where it lies. That’s where the secret lies. In letting go. That’s real. That’s a releasing experience. Well your mind will wander back to that old cave again. Time and again. But don’t let it. Refrain. And like I always say, Time heals.

Well it is. It just is. Welcome to my life.

Life is.
Too tight.
I know, a ridiculous name for a blog.But hey, its really tight.
Tight situations at work, in relationships, and well also with the wardrobe.hehe..yes, it was meant to be funny.

Its pouring like it's one of the days when Noah might have to take out his ark. DAMn, I wish that doesn't happen, but by the look of it, it might just. This city is going down. And we have been getting quite a lot of signs, and its sad how people are ignoring it. Bombay, now christened Mumbai a few years back, but I still like calling it Bombay. The good old days. Mumbai, well its funny how things grow on you. Like the big apple story. Really, there was this quaint showon MTV a few years back.. I remember, when Cyrus Broacha was quite new to this Veejaying thing, he went around New York, like he does now in local bombay gullies...and he asked people of how Big Apple came to be called " Big Apple". And its interesting how none of them knew.Well, maybe some dumb politician's favorite fruit at that time happened to be The Apple, OR maybe, his apple orchard, actually produced a Big apple which won the humongous fruit award at the local market fair!


Bombay-Mumbai-Mumbhai-what else?! BombayLIFE has changed drastically, since as I knew of the places. Buying a Jealous jeans for a 1000 bucks was such a big deal, when I was in school. And now the bombay markets won't sell anything below 750 rupees! Mcdonalds, is an essential hangout place. and I'm glad people are cottoning on to Domino's when they need pizzas, because when once upon a time, walking through a known celebrity area, me and my friends, were offered 4 huge pizzas, free of cost, by an Amrikan couple, while we were checking out Mumbai's small time actor's and now fashion lovers paradise, which happened to be our backyard. And we returned home, and everyone except me hated those damnned good american style pizzas. I know, that those guys haven't done anything great to their pizzas even now, they taste just the same...and well, they sell because of their excellent delivery campaign..." 30 minutes nahin toh free" .

I remember how we would wear astonishingly ragged clothing, while we would go hang out at this place.When as we became older, that people actually dressed up to come here!

jeez!

We grew up in this market, and you guys actually dress up! please.

I miss my old days.


They were good, we even had something called as summer vacations! Boy! I wish I could have them at the work.Even weekends aren't enough. There is always a weekend or two which I have to sacrifice, for work. And nobody likes that. You have to cancel your tickets, make plans for another week. Get a good night's sleep some other time. Today as I walked into the hospital.Yes, My grandpa isn't well, and also, my cousin, who by the way, is a good biker, had an accident, he tried to save this boy who was walking with his cellphone glued to the conversation, that he didn't see my kid bro zoom in. Alas, my bro got his stitches, and the whole family rushed to see him. I love families. They keep us together :)

Neways. everythings under control.

Don't I just love this line! But I don't like" How do we go about it? and ASAP! sheesh, there's gotta be an alternative.
Maybe next time, I will be back with one.

hehe

Till then.
Astalavista Baby!

Wish me a Happy Manic Monday.

lol

azurevyom