I had two weeks of vacation time and I have spend most of it at home staring at my wall, talking to my two very bored dogs and watching random serials on all the possible channels I could find on my cable TV menu.
I am by far the most non-happening person I have come across. All my friends including my dearest ex are in Goa having a ball, while I sit here writing this depressing post.
It's time for prozac. Well, a vacation could do it too, I suppose.
Dec 29, 2008
Dec 27, 2008
Truth or dare?
So here is what I picked up from a good friend's blog:
The way its supposed to go is that you get a chance to express ur true feelings by answering these questions honestly... no negative or positive repurcussions, I promise.
1. Who are you?
2. Are we friends?
3. Something I have and you want?
4. Give me a nick name and explain why you picked it?
5. Describe me in one word?
6. What was your first impression of me?
7. Do you still think that way about me now?
8. What reminds you of me?
9. If you could ever give me one thing, what would it be?
10. How well do you know me?
11. How do you see me in future?
12. Ever wanted to tell me anything, but couldn't?
Source: Paradox Phillic (I don't plagiarise whether I am accused of it or not :P )
The way its supposed to go is that you get a chance to express ur true feelings by answering these questions honestly... no negative or positive repurcussions, I promise.
1. Who are you?
2. Are we friends?
3. Something I have and you want?
4. Give me a nick name and explain why you picked it?
5. Describe me in one word?
6. What was your first impression of me?
7. Do you still think that way about me now?
8. What reminds you of me?
9. If you could ever give me one thing, what would it be?
10. How well do you know me?
11. How do you see me in future?
12. Ever wanted to tell me anything, but couldn't?
Source: Paradox Phillic (I don't plagiarise whether I am accused of it or not :P )
Dec 24, 2008
Hmm.
They say, you can never part with someone on "good terms", because if you were on good terms with that person, why would you part?
No dates for me tonight...
... I got my TV dinner in the microwave!
Who needs a man when you got a Television at home. Let me tell you why:
(From here on, I am going to refer to TV as him, he, his in this post. Well, 'it' just doesn't do justice.)
1. My TV offers a range of emotions in response to my myriad moods - drama, action, suspense, romance, sex and more. I sure can't expect all of it from the same relationship with a man.
2. My TV is there as my loyal companion on many lonely nights. I don't have to dress up or curl my hair for him, he will not judge. My pajamas will do.
3. My TV can keep me constantly entertained. For a person of fleeting interest, his 300 and more (is that the number of Tata Sky channels available now) personalities can keep me on my toes.
4. I don't have to drive to get to my date. It waits for me at home every night, promising me one hour of uninterrupted relaxation after a dreadful day at work.
5. My TV delivers what it promises without any mind games.
6. My TV talks to me in the middle of those nights, when I can't sleep and wake up at 3 AM. I then fall back asleep to its soft voice in the background.
7. My parents allow me to have my TV in my bedroom - 24X7. No hassles at all! Now, when would I be able to do that with a boy.
8. My TV comes with a guarantee card. I can easily exchange if my expectations are not fulfilled.
9. My TV is my eyes to the world. I am still growing up and he helps me form perceptions and learn about things without imposing.
10. Best of all, I got all his buttons in my hand; God bless the remote!
Who needs a man when you got a Television at home. Let me tell you why:
(From here on, I am going to refer to TV as him, he, his in this post. Well, 'it' just doesn't do justice.)
1. My TV offers a range of emotions in response to my myriad moods - drama, action, suspense, romance, sex and more. I sure can't expect all of it from the same relationship with a man.
2. My TV is there as my loyal companion on many lonely nights. I don't have to dress up or curl my hair for him, he will not judge. My pajamas will do.
3. My TV can keep me constantly entertained. For a person of fleeting interest, his 300 and more (is that the number of Tata Sky channels available now) personalities can keep me on my toes.
4. I don't have to drive to get to my date. It waits for me at home every night, promising me one hour of uninterrupted relaxation after a dreadful day at work.
5. My TV delivers what it promises without any mind games.
6. My TV talks to me in the middle of those nights, when I can't sleep and wake up at 3 AM. I then fall back asleep to its soft voice in the background.
7. My parents allow me to have my TV in my bedroom - 24X7. No hassles at all! Now, when would I be able to do that with a boy.
8. My TV comes with a guarantee card. I can easily exchange if my expectations are not fulfilled.
9. My TV is my eyes to the world. I am still growing up and he helps me form perceptions and learn about things without imposing.
10. Best of all, I got all his buttons in my hand; God bless the remote!
Confucious says...
Love is like a button...
it can keep your outfit (life) together or let it fall apart.
it can keep your outfit (life) together or let it fall apart.
Dec 15, 2008
Confucious says...
Love is like a band-aid...
providing short-term relief till its time to rip it off, hurting yourself all over again.
providing short-term relief till its time to rip it off, hurting yourself all over again.
Dec 5, 2008
Confucious says...
Love is like marijuana...
you gotta try it atleast once in your life, just to know what its like.
you gotta try it atleast once in your life, just to know what its like.
Dec 1, 2008
Confucious says...
Love is like a vodka shot.
It gives you a short but sweet headrush at first, and a bitch of a headache later.
It gives you a short but sweet headrush at first, and a bitch of a headache later.
Nov 28, 2008
woh mera pehla pehla pyar...
That boy that I met at a party, an interesting fella. I was rambling some bullshit story to him and could only finish half of it and I had to get home - after all I was only 17 and had a curfew time at home.
He hooked me by asking for my number. I raised an eyebrow, and he smiled cheekily and said it was only because he wanted to hear the rest of the story. Charming, I thought.
Many such sweet incidents followed.
There was this time he had his leg in a cast due to a cricket accident, and I was to leave for Canada the next day I think. I had wanted to go dancing and he decided if I wanted to go dancing, then we had to go dancing. We went to a club and swayed to the popular song at that time 'Aicha' with him leaned against a wall cos he couldn't stand without support. This one ranks in the "Top romantic dances of my life" list.
Another time when I was upset about something and was talking to him on the phone. It was something trivial, but I was upset anyway. To cheer me up, he got his friend to drive him over to my house (cos his leg is still in a cast), calls me out, hands me a Dairy Milk chocolate, smiles and leaves. How adorable is that?
He would pass by my house on his bike and ask me to come out for a second and wave as he went by, that was our 'mulakaat' for the day considering Dad was closely monitoring my trips to the outside world. :D
I remember this and much more, but I don't remember why we broke up, fought or all the ugly mess that followed. But I guess that works for me.
I am still in touch with him, and we finally seem to have gotten over the bitterness, so cheers to a long friendship ahead of us. Whoever said you shouldn't keep in touch with your exes, isn't right in this case.
He hooked me by asking for my number. I raised an eyebrow, and he smiled cheekily and said it was only because he wanted to hear the rest of the story. Charming, I thought.
Many such sweet incidents followed.
There was this time he had his leg in a cast due to a cricket accident, and I was to leave for Canada the next day I think. I had wanted to go dancing and he decided if I wanted to go dancing, then we had to go dancing. We went to a club and swayed to the popular song at that time 'Aicha' with him leaned against a wall cos he couldn't stand without support. This one ranks in the "Top romantic dances of my life" list.
Another time when I was upset about something and was talking to him on the phone. It was something trivial, but I was upset anyway. To cheer me up, he got his friend to drive him over to my house (cos his leg is still in a cast), calls me out, hands me a Dairy Milk chocolate, smiles and leaves. How adorable is that?
He would pass by my house on his bike and ask me to come out for a second and wave as he went by, that was our 'mulakaat' for the day considering Dad was closely monitoring my trips to the outside world. :D
I remember this and much more, but I don't remember why we broke up, fought or all the ugly mess that followed. But I guess that works for me.
I am still in touch with him, and we finally seem to have gotten over the bitterness, so cheers to a long friendship ahead of us. Whoever said you shouldn't keep in touch with your exes, isn't right in this case.
Confucious says...
Love is a war field...
You let you defence down for a minute and you get shot in the heart!!
You let you defence down for a minute and you get shot in the heart!!
Nov 24, 2008
I solemnly promise to...
never edit or proofread my blog posts ever again cos I do that 12 x 6 hours a week at work.
Please don't pull a grammar police on me. I have no interest in commas, semi-colons or m-dashes or in their placement what so ever!!
Please don't pull a grammar police on me. I have no interest in commas, semi-colons or m-dashes or in their placement what so ever!!
The friends Sue needs to survive
This one is dedicated to the friend who sent the link for this piece to me and all my other pals who listen to me whine day in and out...
" Guys and girls both need to have that one person who is always there and doesn’t need a study guide to understand them, but even he or she can’t be all things at all times. Take a look at this list of five friends every person needs to survive and then get together with yours and enjoy perfect company. After all, great health and good looks can only take you so far alone. For a real makeover, appreciate the friends you’ve got and perhaps decide to make a few more to balance out your lifestyle and theirs.
The friend who gets it. Yes, this is often the misery loves company friend and that’s okay. When you’re absolutely certain your world has fallen apart and can never be put back together, you need a friend who’s been there and lived to tell the tale. This life saver should be listener extraordinaire who can tell you how you’re feeling before you say the words. They don’t try to tell you the glass is half full; they just appreciate your fear of the empty portion and assure you of your survival by their existence.
The tell-it-like-it-is friend. This guy’s for when you’ve wallowed, whined, complained and vegged quite enough. They are the friend who gets you back on your feet and into the mainstream of life. They are also the one who can tell you, quite frankly, that you need to get your head on straight and stop seeing that girl, drinking too much, wearing those clothes or openly warn you of any other catastrophe you’re about to head into. This has to be someone who can tell you you’re wrong and you’ll be willing to at least consider that they may be right.
The nut. This girl is a freak in normal girl’s clothing. She has a million phobias and neuroses and always wonders if there are sharks in fresh water or scorpions in the bed sheets. She makes you normal. Need we say more?
The new friend. Make a friend. It’s good for you. Expand your interests, take a leap of faith, share a secret. Making new friends helps you to evaluate who you are and what you really want in life. Old friends begin to look a lot alike after all those years. You tolerate each other. New friends help you see yourself through a new set of eyes. You might be surprised to find that you’ve accomplished those goals and become a better… you fill in the blank.
The friend for life. This friend has been around the block with you more than a few times. He knows your dirt and your accomplishments and still shows up when you need him. He’s got your back no matter how stupid you just were. He’s there to pick you up and slow you down. This is the guy who knows what you’ll do before you do. No matter how long it’s been, it’s like no time has passed since you last spoke. "
Source: Carefair.com
" Guys and girls both need to have that one person who is always there and doesn’t need a study guide to understand them, but even he or she can’t be all things at all times. Take a look at this list of five friends every person needs to survive and then get together with yours and enjoy perfect company. After all, great health and good looks can only take you so far alone. For a real makeover, appreciate the friends you’ve got and perhaps decide to make a few more to balance out your lifestyle and theirs.
The friend who gets it. Yes, this is often the misery loves company friend and that’s okay. When you’re absolutely certain your world has fallen apart and can never be put back together, you need a friend who’s been there and lived to tell the tale. This life saver should be listener extraordinaire who can tell you how you’re feeling before you say the words. They don’t try to tell you the glass is half full; they just appreciate your fear of the empty portion and assure you of your survival by their existence.
The tell-it-like-it-is friend. This guy’s for when you’ve wallowed, whined, complained and vegged quite enough. They are the friend who gets you back on your feet and into the mainstream of life. They are also the one who can tell you, quite frankly, that you need to get your head on straight and stop seeing that girl, drinking too much, wearing those clothes or openly warn you of any other catastrophe you’re about to head into. This has to be someone who can tell you you’re wrong and you’ll be willing to at least consider that they may be right.
The nut. This girl is a freak in normal girl’s clothing. She has a million phobias and neuroses and always wonders if there are sharks in fresh water or scorpions in the bed sheets. She makes you normal. Need we say more?
The new friend. Make a friend. It’s good for you. Expand your interests, take a leap of faith, share a secret. Making new friends helps you to evaluate who you are and what you really want in life. Old friends begin to look a lot alike after all those years. You tolerate each other. New friends help you see yourself through a new set of eyes. You might be surprised to find that you’ve accomplished those goals and become a better… you fill in the blank.
The friend for life. This friend has been around the block with you more than a few times. He knows your dirt and your accomplishments and still shows up when you need him. He’s got your back no matter how stupid you just were. He’s there to pick you up and slow you down. This is the guy who knows what you’ll do before you do. No matter how long it’s been, it’s like no time has passed since you last spoke. "
Source: Carefair.com
Nov 22, 2008
Infestation of the corporate poly-ticks - The Series
Watch out for the unfolding saga of the corporate poly-ticks who have Miss sickly weekly ready to jump off the fifth floor balcony of the very-posh office building in Hitec city, Hyderabad.
A story with many interesting characters:
the protagonist - Miss sickly weekly
the boss - Ms Cruella Deville
a supportive manager in the team - Mr Wise Shorty
the immediate boss -Ms two face
client # 1 - Ms why-couldn't-you-be-MY-boss-instead
client # 2 - Ms how-can-you-look-so-hot-at-37
the other victimized team member - Mr how-can-they-treat-me-like-this?
the super boss - Ms Overseas
the friend from another team - Ms supportive distraction
Soon to hit "the Sushi Bar" ( well only as soon as Miss sickly weekly decides to quit.)
A story with many interesting characters:
the protagonist - Miss sickly weekly
the boss - Ms Cruella Deville
a supportive manager in the team - Mr Wise Shorty
the immediate boss -Ms two face
client # 1 - Ms why-couldn't-you-be-MY-boss-instead
client # 2 - Ms how-can-you-look-so-hot-at-37
the other victimized team member - Mr how-can-they-treat-me-like-this?
the super boss - Ms Overseas
the friend from another team - Ms supportive distraction
Soon to hit "the Sushi Bar" ( well only as soon as Miss sickly weekly decides to quit.)
In pursuit of harmony
My first tattoo shown in the post below - kanji symbols for the word "harmony".
I always knew that when I get a tattoo, it would be of significance to me and wouldn't be some random design just cos it looks pretty. I also have a fetish for world language scripts, I think they look beautiful, alien and mysterious.
During the 30-minute pleasurably painful ordeal of permanently inking myself, I was deep in thought about the meaning of the word "harmony". There was absolutely none of it in my life and that's what made it significant. I was in pursuit of harmony, and if I ever found it, I would treasure it for life.
Money, success, friends, relationships come and go in one's life and it's the same with mine. I had highs and lows with all of these things walking in and out of my life but the one thing that is important is to have a balanced, somewhat disassociated and almost "zen" attitude to be able ride the waves without losing yourself in it.
Harmony - "a pleasing arrangement of parts" as per dictionary.com, would allow for this "balanced" approach - a way to create beautiful music out of the high and low notes in my life.
Harmony in my mind, body, soul and in my surroundings as well.
Harmony in my mind: Making balanced, rational decisions - taking all the important factors into account and also the weightage associated with each one to come up with a decision that is best for me and the factors/people involved. A decision that I can stick with and not waver from. Basically, eradicate all confusion. A decision that comforts my gut as well as my thought.
Harmony in my body: To have all my organs in working order and together for the greater good of the whole 'Sue'. The ovary has overacting and the kidney has been kidnapped for way tooo long. I'd like to feel healthy, completely healthy - not one sniffle, not one pimple and no strain of tiredness in the body - even if its just for a day.
Harmony in my soul: To be connected, truly connected with my soul. To be in touch with my bigger purpose, to find my faith and know my place in the world. To know the real me and accept the real me.
Harmony in my surroundings: To have a healthy, happy home with no signs of schizophrenia,depression in miles of me. To have positive, balanced people as my friends, parents, acquaintences and lovers. To shower my affection on people that shower their affection on me.
This tattoo, an extension of me now, constantly reminds me to stay in pursuit of harmony.
I always knew that when I get a tattoo, it would be of significance to me and wouldn't be some random design just cos it looks pretty. I also have a fetish for world language scripts, I think they look beautiful, alien and mysterious.
During the 30-minute pleasurably painful ordeal of permanently inking myself, I was deep in thought about the meaning of the word "harmony". There was absolutely none of it in my life and that's what made it significant. I was in pursuit of harmony, and if I ever found it, I would treasure it for life.
Money, success, friends, relationships come and go in one's life and it's the same with mine. I had highs and lows with all of these things walking in and out of my life but the one thing that is important is to have a balanced, somewhat disassociated and almost "zen" attitude to be able ride the waves without losing yourself in it.
Harmony - "a pleasing arrangement of parts" as per dictionary.com, would allow for this "balanced" approach - a way to create beautiful music out of the high and low notes in my life.
Harmony in my mind, body, soul and in my surroundings as well.
Harmony in my mind: Making balanced, rational decisions - taking all the important factors into account and also the weightage associated with each one to come up with a decision that is best for me and the factors/people involved. A decision that I can stick with and not waver from. Basically, eradicate all confusion. A decision that comforts my gut as well as my thought.
Harmony in my body: To have all my organs in working order and together for the greater good of the whole 'Sue'. The ovary has overacting and the kidney has been kidnapped for way tooo long. I'd like to feel healthy, completely healthy - not one sniffle, not one pimple and no strain of tiredness in the body - even if its just for a day.
Harmony in my soul: To be connected, truly connected with my soul. To be in touch with my bigger purpose, to find my faith and know my place in the world. To know the real me and accept the real me.
Harmony in my surroundings: To have a healthy, happy home with no signs of schizophrenia,depression in miles of me. To have positive, balanced people as my friends, parents, acquaintences and lovers. To shower my affection on people that shower their affection on me.
This tattoo, an extension of me now, constantly reminds me to stay in pursuit of harmony.
Oct 27, 2008
Oct 21, 2008
Ol' times
Its great to meet old friends from school after a long hiatus because they manage to take you back to the memories - some sweet, some bitter, some embarrasing and some downright humiliating. Those that you had managed to shift+delete from your mind as it was just convenient to forget them than mull over em.
Let me go back to:
1. The time when I wore bright orange pants to school in eight grade for my birthday. I blamed it on my mom for many years, but I know deep down I loved them when she bought them for me. A fashion faux-pas that I have never lived down.
2. The time I got that insane haircut in seventh grade. I decided I had the skills of a hairdresser and cut my hair so short, it hardly reached my ear.
3. The other time when I got my hair permed and the brush got stuck in it at the school ladies room.
4. The couple of months when I was ALWAYS in baggy jeans and boyish t-shirts. They covered up the curves well, considering all the friends were boys (Yes, even then!).
5. The controversies with other women over the high school basketball team stars being interested in me (I am allowed to show off - trust me - If you saw me then, you'd be surprised)
6. That ancient maths tuition teacher who used to lament every time I made a careless calculation mistake saying "Sue, you are an intelligent child but not a diligent child!"
Thanks Pranav, Bhavna, Himanshu for reminding me of the ol' times.
Let me go back to:
1. The time when I wore bright orange pants to school in eight grade for my birthday. I blamed it on my mom for many years, but I know deep down I loved them when she bought them for me. A fashion faux-pas that I have never lived down.
2. The time I got that insane haircut in seventh grade. I decided I had the skills of a hairdresser and cut my hair so short, it hardly reached my ear.
3. The other time when I got my hair permed and the brush got stuck in it at the school ladies room.
4. The couple of months when I was ALWAYS in baggy jeans and boyish t-shirts. They covered up the curves well, considering all the friends were boys (Yes, even then!).
5. The controversies with other women over the high school basketball team stars being interested in me (I am allowed to show off - trust me - If you saw me then, you'd be surprised)
6. That ancient maths tuition teacher who used to lament every time I made a careless calculation mistake saying "Sue, you are an intelligent child but not a diligent child!"
Thanks Pranav, Bhavna, Himanshu for reminding me of the ol' times.
Oct 20, 2008
Could be yours, Sue
Every one who has known me for a while, knows my strong opinion on arranged marriages and how "dysfunctional" and "outdated" they are in concept.
But as I see my fellow opinionated friends slowly take the plunge themselves and find that they opened their minds to this concept to find a life partner through this system, I start to ponder - Is there some merit in this system, that my prejudice and bias has not allowed me to see this far.
As my parents "do the dance" about the Chartered accountants, engineers and doctors that I should check out, I am slowly finding my resistance to see their photos melting away - just for fun I say - but deep-down it is to keep that tiny door of opportunity to find everlasting love open.
Dad, recently threw a tantrum about how I should get professional photographs done - complete with heavy foundation, straight hair, lighting and a "disco shanti" saree. I refused... agreeing with my friend who quipped, laughing at my situation, "Kab tak sach ko chupaoge".
So while my mother was sitting next to me to write a "shaadi" bio-data... I decided the format below was too boring,
Name : Sue
Age: 23 years
Height: 5'5
I decided to put a spin on it which I plan to secretly send to the prospectives.
Hey boy (don’t know your name yet),
My name is Sue. I am a 23 year old dreamer. I see the world from five and a half feet above ground level with brown eyes full of questions and intrigue. Bouncy, curly hair forms a halo around my ‘devilishly naughty’ head.
I went off on an adventure trip to pursue my undergraduate degree in Business (marketing) in Canada after finishing my Grade 12 in Delhi Public School (R.K. Puram). Four years and whirlwind of exciting experiences later, I emerged a graduate and an adult. After one year of working in Canada at my university, a power company and Mercedes-Benz, I chose to return to the ‘homeland’ and worked with an advertising firm and then switched to (the organization I am with at present). (The organization) has managed to retain my interest for more than a year now. I work with the Internal Communications team and my job involves writing, editing, publishing, organizing, networking and not losing my head while doing all this.
And now the real me: a fun-lover, a brooder, a writer, a dancer, a blogger, a glutton, a social animal, an entertainer, a dog-lover, a conversationalist, a traveler and more.
My views on arranged marriage: I didn’t think I was cut out for it. But, choosing to take a chance due to my new-found belief in destiny.
Now, who is the real you?
Could be yours (*conditions apply),
Sue
* Conditions being: You have to be above-average hot, a dreamer, believe in treating your woman like a partner, a good cook (cos I suck), a dancer (its important to keep up with me on the floor), have high levels of patience (I am known to be difficult, sometimes!), be intellectually stimulating and have a killer sense of humour.
But as I see my fellow opinionated friends slowly take the plunge themselves and find that they opened their minds to this concept to find a life partner through this system, I start to ponder - Is there some merit in this system, that my prejudice and bias has not allowed me to see this far.
As my parents "do the dance" about the Chartered accountants, engineers and doctors that I should check out, I am slowly finding my resistance to see their photos melting away - just for fun I say - but deep-down it is to keep that tiny door of opportunity to find everlasting love open.
Dad, recently threw a tantrum about how I should get professional photographs done - complete with heavy foundation, straight hair, lighting and a "disco shanti" saree. I refused... agreeing with my friend who quipped, laughing at my situation, "Kab tak sach ko chupaoge".
So while my mother was sitting next to me to write a "shaadi" bio-data... I decided the format below was too boring,
Name : Sue
Age: 23 years
Height: 5'5
I decided to put a spin on it which I plan to secretly send to the prospectives.
Hey boy (don’t know your name yet),
My name is Sue. I am a 23 year old dreamer. I see the world from five and a half feet above ground level with brown eyes full of questions and intrigue. Bouncy, curly hair forms a halo around my ‘devilishly naughty’ head.
I went off on an adventure trip to pursue my undergraduate degree in Business (marketing) in Canada after finishing my Grade 12 in Delhi Public School (R.K. Puram). Four years and whirlwind of exciting experiences later, I emerged a graduate and an adult. After one year of working in Canada at my university, a power company and Mercedes-Benz, I chose to return to the ‘homeland’ and worked with an advertising firm and then switched to (the organization I am with at present). (The organization) has managed to retain my interest for more than a year now. I work with the Internal Communications team and my job involves writing, editing, publishing, organizing, networking and not losing my head while doing all this.
And now the real me: a fun-lover, a brooder, a writer, a dancer, a blogger, a glutton, a social animal, an entertainer, a dog-lover, a conversationalist, a traveler and more.
My views on arranged marriage: I didn’t think I was cut out for it. But, choosing to take a chance due to my new-found belief in destiny.
Now, who is the real you?
Could be yours (*conditions apply),
Sue
* Conditions being: You have to be above-average hot, a dreamer, believe in treating your woman like a partner, a good cook (cos I suck), a dancer (its important to keep up with me on the floor), have high levels of patience (I am known to be difficult, sometimes!), be intellectually stimulating and have a killer sense of humour.
Random rambling
Every time I take a trip, I feel doing something significant to remember that experience. And this something significant, is always to do with my body - a tattoo, a piercing, a drastic haircut. At this rate, I will be a museum of body art in a couple of years. What is wrong with me? Is my routine life so damn boring, that I have to go over the board to be adventurous and rebellious every time I get away from it for a few days?
Blah!
Blah!
Sep 30, 2008
Privacy, or the lack of it!
You can't even smile to yourself these days, without your 'nosy' friends noticing it and giving you a hard time later.
Please note Hetch, this is not to be misconstrued as a confession or agreement to your accusation.
Please note Hetch, this is not to be misconstrued as a confession or agreement to your accusation.
Aug 28, 2008
You know Bollywood has arrived when...
a mainstream bhangra number has Snoop Dogg guest starring in it. Damn!
Aug 24, 2008
Pray!
My best friend is in the hospital due to a bad accident. Please pray for him. He needs it.
Danke Schon.
Update - Aug 29, 2008
Thanks for your prayers. They seem to be working as he is getting better. But don't stop yet cos he doesn't remember who I am. Pray that his memory comes back or I will be a stranger to him.
Danke Schon.
Update - Aug 29, 2008
Thanks for your prayers. They seem to be working as he is getting better. But don't stop yet cos he doesn't remember who I am. Pray that his memory comes back or I will be a stranger to him.
Blink. Blank. Blink. CRASH !!
One fine morning, I stop on the way to pick up my friend. He offers to drive. I decline. I feel like driving today, it's been a while you know. So I set off to work with my friend in the seat next to me. He makes some conversation with me for a bit, but we settle into a comfortable silence soon after. He is lost in his own thoughts, and so am I.
I am thinking about the 50 unread emails in my inbox at work. And that dreaded meeting with this client who I am dead sure is going to ask for that project plan, that is not ready yet as I am running behind on schedule due to that other silly project that fell into my lap cos my colleague didn't complete it in time.
Man.....looks like a traffic jam ahead. I slow down. I am still preoccupied with my long things to do list for the day ahead. The white Scorpio in front moves a few metres ahead. I raise my foot off the brake in my Automatic Santro car and it starts to inch forward to take up the empty space before some motorcycle or scooter guy tries to squeeze in. So I reach the desired spot and I move my foot forward to brake and settle in for the next wait.
I BLINK. Panic sets in. I cannot remember which one is the brake and which one is the accelerator pedal. How can this be happening? My heart beat starts to rise. I am still trying to rack my brains but I AM BLANK. I am dangerously close to the Scorpio in front of me. I want to stop the car but I cannot take the risk of pressing the pedal that I think might be the brake because if it is the other one by chance then I will hit the car in front of me even harder. Time slowed down for those few seconds. I could sense the impending disaster ahead of me. I take the risk and hit what I think is the brake but I guess it is not with enough conviction as I feel my car CRASH into the car ahead.
Amidst the loud sounds of car honks and shattering glass, I am confused, scared and almost ready to cry. I regain my poise and take my sunglasses off, getting myself ready to face the music and a big, burly guy gets down from the car in front of me. He walks over to examine the damage and walks purposefully towards my window. I am sheepishly saying sorry and look straight at him with my own panic-veiled eyes. He softens once he sees my face and walks back to his car without saying a word and drives off. I am too nervous to get down to examine the damage to my car so I just start driving. Miraculously, now I can drive as naturally as I can walk.
I am worried shit-less about this accident. I sure hope I don't forget to breathe one day.
I am thinking about the 50 unread emails in my inbox at work. And that dreaded meeting with this client who I am dead sure is going to ask for that project plan, that is not ready yet as I am running behind on schedule due to that other silly project that fell into my lap cos my colleague didn't complete it in time.
Man.....looks like a traffic jam ahead. I slow down. I am still preoccupied with my long things to do list for the day ahead. The white Scorpio in front moves a few metres ahead. I raise my foot off the brake in my Automatic Santro car and it starts to inch forward to take up the empty space before some motorcycle or scooter guy tries to squeeze in. So I reach the desired spot and I move my foot forward to brake and settle in for the next wait.
I BLINK. Panic sets in. I cannot remember which one is the brake and which one is the accelerator pedal. How can this be happening? My heart beat starts to rise. I am still trying to rack my brains but I AM BLANK. I am dangerously close to the Scorpio in front of me. I want to stop the car but I cannot take the risk of pressing the pedal that I think might be the brake because if it is the other one by chance then I will hit the car in front of me even harder. Time slowed down for those few seconds. I could sense the impending disaster ahead of me. I take the risk and hit what I think is the brake but I guess it is not with enough conviction as I feel my car CRASH into the car ahead.
Amidst the loud sounds of car honks and shattering glass, I am confused, scared and almost ready to cry. I regain my poise and take my sunglasses off, getting myself ready to face the music and a big, burly guy gets down from the car in front of me. He walks over to examine the damage and walks purposefully towards my window. I am sheepishly saying sorry and look straight at him with my own panic-veiled eyes. He softens once he sees my face and walks back to his car without saying a word and drives off. I am too nervous to get down to examine the damage to my car so I just start driving. Miraculously, now I can drive as naturally as I can walk.
I am worried shit-less about this accident. I sure hope I don't forget to breathe one day.
Aug 22, 2008
Aug 21, 2008
MIA
I know I have been Missing In Action for a while. Well let's see...
Fever. Cough. Cold. Tired. Swamped with work. Uninspired. Exasperated.
and then a few days off...
Travelled. Bangalore. Partied. Shopped. Tattoed. Drank. Ate. Walked. Coorg. Hiked. Rafted. Witnessed waterfalls. Met with the monks. Inspired to travel more.
Back. More work. Frustrated at others' incompetency. Even more tired. Uninspired...again!!
But. I will be back to writing soon. Till then, don't miss me too much. :P
Fever. Cough. Cold. Tired. Swamped with work. Uninspired. Exasperated.
and then a few days off...
Travelled. Bangalore. Partied. Shopped. Tattoed. Drank. Ate. Walked. Coorg. Hiked. Rafted. Witnessed waterfalls. Met with the monks. Inspired to travel more.
Back. More work. Frustrated at others' incompetency. Even more tired. Uninspired...again!!
But. I will be back to writing soon. Till then, don't miss me too much. :P
Jul 25, 2008
The temptation of the temporary!
If you know that something or someone will give you temporary moments of satisfaction/contentment or even happiness but you are dead sure that this won't last...
Should you still take the plunge and enjoy it?
or
Should you protect yourself now, from the hurt of losing it later, by not indulging in it at all?
Should you still take the plunge and enjoy it?
or
Should you protect yourself now, from the hurt of losing it later, by not indulging in it at all?
Jul 24, 2008
the real Sue
The latest personality test I took gives a little insight into the real Sue. It is accurate for the most part. So a sneak peak for you boys who are trying to woo me.
For short: Wildcat, Naughty, Party gal, Thoughtful
"You are romantic in your outlook with a bit of a taste for the exotic. You love feeling the sea breeze in your hair, sun on your skin... you always take the first dip. When it comes to art, you are definitely unconventional, you are drawn to the beauty of the human body - and to the opportunity to express your identity through it. Music rules your weekends. Sweaty clubs, bangin' parties are where you feel most at home. You are very sociable, love going out, meeting friends and havin it large.
Always first to take the leap, you always look forward and try not to have any regrets. You like to take the plunge - this positive attitude will give you a wealth of experience. For kicks, there is nothing like a little affection to give you a buzz. There is always so much flirting to be done. When it comes to holidays, there is nothing that beats the night lights of the big cities (but I love calm beaches too). With a metropolis as your playground, you will never run out of things to do.
You love being a little bit naughty. Being good all the time is too boring - life should be about enjoyment. Your choice of drink reflects extravagant but classic taste. You probably like to get dressed up, go out and been seen in all the glamourous haunts (only sometimes though. There are many times I enjoy chilling with friends over a beer). As for the home you are a bit of a traditionalist. It is not just about function - style is a definite priority.
For you friendship is all about being there for one another. It's so precious to know that there are there a few special people in the world that you can always rely on. When you think of freedom, you think of being incharge of your own direction. The open road and a full tank can take you pretty much anywhere."
For short: Wildcat, Naughty, Party gal, Thoughtful
"You are romantic in your outlook with a bit of a taste for the exotic. You love feeling the sea breeze in your hair, sun on your skin... you always take the first dip. When it comes to art, you are definitely unconventional, you are drawn to the beauty of the human body - and to the opportunity to express your identity through it. Music rules your weekends. Sweaty clubs, bangin' parties are where you feel most at home. You are very sociable, love going out, meeting friends and havin it large.
Always first to take the leap, you always look forward and try not to have any regrets. You like to take the plunge - this positive attitude will give you a wealth of experience. For kicks, there is nothing like a little affection to give you a buzz. There is always so much flirting to be done. When it comes to holidays, there is nothing that beats the night lights of the big cities (but I love calm beaches too). With a metropolis as your playground, you will never run out of things to do.
You love being a little bit naughty. Being good all the time is too boring - life should be about enjoyment. Your choice of drink reflects extravagant but classic taste. You probably like to get dressed up, go out and been seen in all the glamourous haunts (only sometimes though. There are many times I enjoy chilling with friends over a beer). As for the home you are a bit of a traditionalist. It is not just about function - style is a definite priority.
For you friendship is all about being there for one another. It's so precious to know that there are there a few special people in the world that you can always rely on. When you think of freedom, you think of being incharge of your own direction. The open road and a full tank can take you pretty much anywhere."
Jul 21, 2008
Take the survey!
I came out with a promotion and a great rating/bonus and the following advice from the appraisal this year:
"You are perceived as arrogant and as someone with an attitude problem by some other managers in the process who have not worked with you. I am your manager and I know it is confidence and self-assurance regarding your capabilities and you are very open to feedback but you appear that way to the outside world. That is not good for your future career."
Ok. So let's do a survey. How many of you think I am arrogant or have an attitude problem? Please choose an option on the survey and follow up with generous comments on this topic.
Your feedback may save my career. (Ok I am largely exaggerating here :P)
P.S. You guys have a week to submit your answers. Please note that you may choose multiple options. Also please feel free to direct your friends who know to me to this blog just for this survey. Thankeees!
"You are perceived as arrogant and as someone with an attitude problem by some other managers in the process who have not worked with you. I am your manager and I know it is confidence and self-assurance regarding your capabilities and you are very open to feedback but you appear that way to the outside world. That is not good for your future career."
Ok. So let's do a survey. How many of you think I am arrogant or have an attitude problem? Please choose an option on the survey and follow up with generous comments on this topic.
Your feedback may save my career. (Ok I am largely exaggerating here :P)
P.S. You guys have a week to submit your answers. Please note that you may choose multiple options. Also please feel free to direct your friends who know to me to this blog just for this survey. Thankeees!
Jul 12, 2008
Finally married.
Married to the job.
I did a compare/contrast analysis on my ideas(more like misconceptions) on that new job in Comms before I joined and now i.e. two weeks into it.
Then:
My time at the agency last year was a hurricane of disastrously tight deadlines, clients yelling their head off, the boss lady yelling her head off and then the creative guys thinking, I am just not good enough to keep all the balls in the air (Wink!Wink! at Hetch).
Now:
Still a situation with tight deadlines. Internal clients who don't yell but put their displeasure forward in a sarcasticly caustic, politically correct manner which, in my opinion, is worse. The boss lady is freaking out more than I am, so I am the calming factor, which is new and interesting. The creative guys are troublesome until I pay them a visit, which is a twenty minute drive from the office and they like my face enough to do my work for me on time. It helps to be cute in the professional world :)
Then:
I am looking forward to the writing, though. It is less pressured because it business writing. I am good at that. Copywriting or creative writing, not so sure. I guess I did choose the safer option. I still have my blog for my creative (or destructive) brain-puke so I don't mind restricting myself to business writing at work.
Now:
Business writing is also bundooooing(courtesy: Bundoo@mindset)me royally. It's cos they want 300 word articles done in a span of an hour. My mind is not set for bullet-train speed writing yet. And this is not the safer option, because the big boss thinks I am creative for some odd reason and gives me all those campaigns that need that kind of ideation and input. That too in a day! Waaah....help me Hari :(
And the blog, it has become my girlfriend, who I don't see so much anymore. I don't get to write as often thanks to the wife(job).
Then:
Plus, the job involves dealing and interacting with many leaders across the global office. That should be fun too. I like people, and all kinds of em'. I get to sit on the 'executive' floor of the office complex, so this is a great networking opportunity. I get to cover events around the different service lines in the office so I am not chained to my desk all day long.
Now:
Yes, it does involve dealing and interacting with leaders. It also involves dealing with their high and sometimes unrealistic expectations, their unresponsiveness when it comes to sending content and their time tantrums. Executive floor is nice though, love the restroom with the full length mirror in it. As far as covering events go, I am like superman, flying from place to place, handling crises all over the place.
Then:
And I can read, read and read during work. Whether its blogs, online magazines, the newspaper, comics or novels... I am actually working on professional development and building my writing skills, vocabulary and creativity. All pre-requisites for the job so no one can call it leisure activity during work hours.
Now:
Hahahahahaha!! I am so cute when I am naive ain't I. Forget reading blogs, online magazines, newspapers etc....I don't get time to read my own emails...wait thats the business email I am talking about :). I find 5 minute windows between my meeting schedules to catch on my emails and sit on the weekend for a couple of hours to organize them. Leisurely activity amounts to the required pee breaks during the day and nothing more.
Then:
The salary is static, but hey I ain't feeding a family of four so I can make do with what I have. The boss does warn me about the lack of recognition or awards, but I guess I can deal with that as long as I am excelling on my own standards for myself.
Now:
I GOT A PROMOTION! Yaaaay! So I guess there will be a hike in the salary. I still stand by my statement on 'excelling on my own standards for myself' so that's that.
Then:
The boss lady has a tattoo. Isn't that awesome? Cos I can get a couple and not be judged or get into trouble for it. And now the best thing about this move is, NO MORE MS EXCEL, No more rows and columns of useless data-entry...... I am free from the 'Copy Paste' and the 'Alt Tab' syndrome. Yaaay!!
Now:
The boss lady has a tattoo. I now know why...she is used to enduring pain. from clients, from creative, from the team, from the press, from her family, from traffic, from her tired body. I will be good at that too...soon. As far as excel goes, I have only opened it to create communications plans for clients, which is tolerable.
I do complain night and day about the 12-hour schedule every day with the traffic situation both ways and the lack of time for myself. I miss my friends from my old team who do 'chai @ adda', team outings, smoke breaks and timepass gossip sessions without me.
But I still love this move. I finally get to write. I finally get goosebumps and my heart skips a beat when I see a new interesting assignment from the boss. I finally get to use my brain at work. I finally love going to work every morning. Finally married to a job I love.
I did a compare/contrast analysis on my ideas(more like misconceptions) on that new job in Comms before I joined and now i.e. two weeks into it.
Then:
My time at the agency last year was a hurricane of disastrously tight deadlines, clients yelling their head off, the boss lady yelling her head off and then the creative guys thinking, I am just not good enough to keep all the balls in the air (Wink!Wink! at Hetch).
Now:
Still a situation with tight deadlines. Internal clients who don't yell but put their displeasure forward in a sarcasticly caustic, politically correct manner which, in my opinion, is worse. The boss lady is freaking out more than I am, so I am the calming factor, which is new and interesting. The creative guys are troublesome until I pay them a visit, which is a twenty minute drive from the office and they like my face enough to do my work for me on time. It helps to be cute in the professional world :)
Then:
I am looking forward to the writing, though. It is less pressured because it business writing. I am good at that. Copywriting or creative writing, not so sure. I guess I did choose the safer option. I still have my blog for my creative (or destructive) brain-puke so I don't mind restricting myself to business writing at work.
Now:
Business writing is also bundooooing(courtesy: Bundoo@mindset)me royally. It's cos they want 300 word articles done in a span of an hour. My mind is not set for bullet-train speed writing yet. And this is not the safer option, because the big boss thinks I am creative for some odd reason and gives me all those campaigns that need that kind of ideation and input. That too in a day! Waaah....help me Hari :(
And the blog, it has become my girlfriend, who I don't see so much anymore. I don't get to write as often thanks to the wife(job).
Then:
Plus, the job involves dealing and interacting with many leaders across the global office. That should be fun too. I like people, and all kinds of em'. I get to sit on the 'executive' floor of the office complex, so this is a great networking opportunity. I get to cover events around the different service lines in the office so I am not chained to my desk all day long.
Now:
Yes, it does involve dealing and interacting with leaders. It also involves dealing with their high and sometimes unrealistic expectations, their unresponsiveness when it comes to sending content and their time tantrums. Executive floor is nice though, love the restroom with the full length mirror in it. As far as covering events go, I am like superman, flying from place to place, handling crises all over the place.
Then:
And I can read, read and read during work. Whether its blogs, online magazines, the newspaper, comics or novels... I am actually working on professional development and building my writing skills, vocabulary and creativity. All pre-requisites for the job so no one can call it leisure activity during work hours.
Now:
Hahahahahaha!! I am so cute when I am naive ain't I. Forget reading blogs, online magazines, newspapers etc....I don't get time to read my own emails...wait thats the business email I am talking about :). I find 5 minute windows between my meeting schedules to catch on my emails and sit on the weekend for a couple of hours to organize them. Leisurely activity amounts to the required pee breaks during the day and nothing more.
Then:
The salary is static, but hey I ain't feeding a family of four so I can make do with what I have. The boss does warn me about the lack of recognition or awards, but I guess I can deal with that as long as I am excelling on my own standards for myself.
Now:
I GOT A PROMOTION! Yaaaay! So I guess there will be a hike in the salary. I still stand by my statement on 'excelling on my own standards for myself' so that's that.
Then:
The boss lady has a tattoo. Isn't that awesome? Cos I can get a couple and not be judged or get into trouble for it. And now the best thing about this move is, NO MORE MS EXCEL, No more rows and columns of useless data-entry...... I am free from the 'Copy Paste' and the 'Alt Tab' syndrome. Yaaay!!
Now:
The boss lady has a tattoo. I now know why...she is used to enduring pain. from clients, from creative, from the team, from the press, from her family, from traffic, from her tired body. I will be good at that too...soon. As far as excel goes, I have only opened it to create communications plans for clients, which is tolerable.
I do complain night and day about the 12-hour schedule every day with the traffic situation both ways and the lack of time for myself. I miss my friends from my old team who do 'chai @ adda', team outings, smoke breaks and timepass gossip sessions without me.
But I still love this move. I finally get to write. I finally get goosebumps and my heart skips a beat when I see a new interesting assignment from the boss. I finally get to use my brain at work. I finally love going to work every morning. Finally married to a job I love.
Jul 5, 2008
A touch of pink
Christiano picks up the tiny, intricately woven, fuschia pink, Victoria's secret lace panties from the drawer next to his bed. He holds it close to his face with a tenderness of a man who has lost his love a long time ago and has not been able to recover.
He sighs heavily. He suddenly feels paralysed by waves of intense pain taking over him. His eyelids are getting heavier. Christiano tries to hold on to his conciousness but he can't. He choses to let go. He feels his soul leave his body.
His last vivid memory of pure pleasure and happiness flashes before him. George, his love, walking into their bedroom in those tiny, intricately woven, fuschia pink, Victoria's secret lace panties.
He sighs heavily. He suddenly feels paralysed by waves of intense pain taking over him. His eyelids are getting heavier. Christiano tries to hold on to his conciousness but he can't. He choses to let go. He feels his soul leave his body.
His last vivid memory of pure pleasure and happiness flashes before him. George, his love, walking into their bedroom in those tiny, intricately woven, fuschia pink, Victoria's secret lace panties.
Jul 3, 2008
Nailed em' !!!
And presenting, the hands that I have been obsessing over for the past few days. Isn't that blood red nail polish absolutely gorgeous??? Thank you Ram, for the brilliant photography. You really made the useless "waiting in traffic" moment worthwhile.
Jul 2, 2008
That familiar stranger
Have you ever had that uncanny feeling when you first meet someone, that you have had some sort of deep, past connection but you can't really put your finger on it. You are just left wondering, with that gut-wrenching familiarity that makes you want to embrace this person into your life without knowing them for too long.
There is also that matter of the heat of the moment. You throw caution out of the window, nit-pick loopholes in your own logic, to find yourself free-falling into the arms of that familiar stranger. A stranger who will stay a stranger. Someone, who will not taint or complicate your future; and just stay as a memory of pure momentary passion; with no strings attached but a sole, soul-connection in your mind and heart.
Sane Insane, a blogger friend, penned it so beautifully, which I am going to take the liberty of sharing with you guys...
We met but once as though by chance
We didn’t date, nor did we dance
We looked into each others’ eyes
Without deception of disguise
A silent message passed between
My hungry heart was plainly seen
You saw desire I could not hide
You looked at me and saw inside.
How could a glance have said so much?
And cause a chill without a touch?
What was that chemistry that evening?
I wish for those moments when our souls are bare
As surely as our bodies there
Our bodies move in harmony
I couldn’t tell you from me
And locked in passion as we are
My sense of time began to blur
I must have known you from before
How else could you have reached my core?
In life perhaps before this one
What had we shared? What had we done?
With what I felt, emotions vast
I must have loved you in the past
But now we go our separate ways
To different lives throughout our days.
P.S. Be sure to check this blog out to understand the true context of the poem from the author's point of view.
There is also that matter of the heat of the moment. You throw caution out of the window, nit-pick loopholes in your own logic, to find yourself free-falling into the arms of that familiar stranger. A stranger who will stay a stranger. Someone, who will not taint or complicate your future; and just stay as a memory of pure momentary passion; with no strings attached but a sole, soul-connection in your mind and heart.
Sane Insane, a blogger friend, penned it so beautifully, which I am going to take the liberty of sharing with you guys...
We met but once as though by chance
We didn’t date, nor did we dance
We looked into each others’ eyes
Without deception of disguise
A silent message passed between
My hungry heart was plainly seen
You saw desire I could not hide
You looked at me and saw inside.
How could a glance have said so much?
And cause a chill without a touch?
What was that chemistry that evening?
I wish for those moments when our souls are bare
As surely as our bodies there
Our bodies move in harmony
I couldn’t tell you from me
And locked in passion as we are
My sense of time began to blur
I must have known you from before
How else could you have reached my core?
In life perhaps before this one
What had we shared? What had we done?
With what I felt, emotions vast
I must have loved you in the past
But now we go our separate ways
To different lives throughout our days.
P.S. Be sure to check this blog out to understand the true context of the poem from the author's point of view.
Jun 30, 2008
One decision down!
Remember this?
Looks like my head is still muddled about most of the things listed in that post. But, there are many changes coming out of this one concrete decision.
I have taken the plunge. I am finally making the move to a position in Internal Communications. I am an 'excited electron' about this move but also scared shit-less at whether I am actually going to be good at it. My time at the agency last year was a hurricane of disastrously tight deadlines, clients yelling their head off, the boss lady yelling her head off and then the creative guys thinking, I am just not good enough to keep all the balls in the air (Wink!Wink! at Hetch). This new role is going to be a mini-hurricane of all the fun stuff I mentioned above but I still can't wait to get my feet wet in it.
I am looking forward to the writing, though. It is less pressured because it business writing. I am good at that. Copywriting or creative writing, not so sure. I guess I did choose the safer option. I still have my blog for my creative (or destructive) brain-puke so I don't mind restricting myself to business writing at work.
Plus, the job involves dealing and interacting with many leaders across the global office. That should be fun too. I like people, and all kinds of em'. I get to sit on the 'executive' floor of the office complex, so this is a great networking opportunity. I get to cover events around the different service lines in the office so I am not chained to my desk all day long.
And I can read, read and read during work. Whether its blogs, online magazines, the newspaper, comics or novels... I am actually working on professional development and building my writing skills, vocabulary and creativity. All pre-requisites for the job so no one can call it leisure activity during work hours.
The salary is static, but hey I ain't feeding a family of four so I can make do with what I have. The boss does warn me about the lack of recognition or awards, but I guess I can deal with that as long as I am excelling on my own standards for myself.
The boss lady has a tattoo. Isn't that awesome? Cos I can get a couple and not be judged or get into trouble for it. And now the best thing about this move is, NO MORE MS EXCEL, No more rows and columns of useless data-entry...... I am free from the 'Copy Paste' and the 'Alt Tab' syndrome. Yaaay!!
Looks like my head is still muddled about most of the things listed in that post. But, there are many changes coming out of this one concrete decision.
I have taken the plunge. I am finally making the move to a position in Internal Communications. I am an 'excited electron' about this move but also scared shit-less at whether I am actually going to be good at it. My time at the agency last year was a hurricane of disastrously tight deadlines, clients yelling their head off, the boss lady yelling her head off and then the creative guys thinking, I am just not good enough to keep all the balls in the air (Wink!Wink! at Hetch). This new role is going to be a mini-hurricane of all the fun stuff I mentioned above but I still can't wait to get my feet wet in it.
I am looking forward to the writing, though. It is less pressured because it business writing. I am good at that. Copywriting or creative writing, not so sure. I guess I did choose the safer option. I still have my blog for my creative (or destructive) brain-puke so I don't mind restricting myself to business writing at work.
Plus, the job involves dealing and interacting with many leaders across the global office. That should be fun too. I like people, and all kinds of em'. I get to sit on the 'executive' floor of the office complex, so this is a great networking opportunity. I get to cover events around the different service lines in the office so I am not chained to my desk all day long.
And I can read, read and read during work. Whether its blogs, online magazines, the newspaper, comics or novels... I am actually working on professional development and building my writing skills, vocabulary and creativity. All pre-requisites for the job so no one can call it leisure activity during work hours.
The salary is static, but hey I ain't feeding a family of four so I can make do with what I have. The boss does warn me about the lack of recognition or awards, but I guess I can deal with that as long as I am excelling on my own standards for myself.
The boss lady has a tattoo. Isn't that awesome? Cos I can get a couple and not be judged or get into trouble for it. And now the best thing about this move is, NO MORE MS EXCEL, No more rows and columns of useless data-entry...... I am free from the 'Copy Paste' and the 'Alt Tab' syndrome. Yaaay!!
Jun 24, 2008
Post-Secret
Inspired by PostSecret.blogspot.com, I will be putting myself out there too. Out with some humiliating, embarrassing, not-so-proud of, dirty secrets of my own, in the hope that it will allow me to explore my hidden side and embrace my untold truths and live and love on as a free mind and soul. And this, not anonymously.
Readers, only if you have your non-judgemental glasses and open-mind hats on, will you be allowed to go beyond this point. A point of no return, if you do decide to judge and alter current impressions about me. A point of change in our relationship, if you decide to embrace my untold truths and let me unravel in front of you.
1. I love Bollywood songs. LOVE. I switch on MTV (Non-Stop Hits) or Channel V(Zabardast Hits) as soon as I wake up. I enjoy hip-hop, house, trance, electronica and rock sometimes, but LOVE bollywood music and telugu too, on occasion.
2. I dance around the house in my purple nightie, with 'haldi' on my pimples and protein cream on my thinning hair.
3. I have already kissed two younger men and I am only 23. Am I a cradle snatcher?
4. I remember, laughing at the concept of arranged marriage for years together and still do openly rip it to pieces within conversations with friends. But as Hetch pointed out, and that moment I vehemently denied it, I am secretly hoping that I can find the 'perfect' guy for me through this traditional system of finding mates. I am tired of playing this love game, sick of heart breaks and wish that love would just fall into my lap this time, without effort or complication.
5. I blame myself for my failed relationships. I wish I had done things differently. I wish I had not hurt my Exs, even if it was inadvertent and unintentional.
6. I love eating Cerelac. I could eat it all day long. I need to grow up.
7. I generally appear confident about my curvaceous figure, my curly hair and my dusky complexion but I secretly wonder how life would have been different if was skinny, fair and had long, straight hair.
8. I love licking my plate after I am done eating Maggi Noodles or 'Rasam' and rice.
9. I wish I had let loose in Canada, travelled more and made more friends, rather than concentrate on studying and working on my career through the four years that I was there.
10. I secretly freak out that I chose the wrong career. I fantasize about an alternate career and lifestyle as a singer, dancer ,an actor, a social worker, a poet or even a copywriter. Yes, Alok and Hetch can please go ahead and feel privileged to be what I could never be.
11. I bite my tongue every time I am rude or sarcastic with mom but I can't help but get irritated with her, even though I love her immensely.
12. I wish I could be unselfish and help my Dad with his business. I know how happy it would make him and how unhappy it would make me and that keeps me on the fence. Isn't there a middle-ground?
13. I wish I could commit to the nice guys that love me and adore me. The guys I actually want can never do me justice, but I still want them. My head needs fixing.
14. I wish I had childhood friends like everyone else.
15. I can never remember directions, even to places I go to everyday. Is something medically wrong with me? I wish I could get a navigating system installed in my head.
16. I am known to be a person of fleeting interest. I am shit-scared that I will never be able to settle down with one person because he might not be able to entertain and engage me every day for the rest of my life. How will I get married? And stay married?
Note: No one is allowed to question me on the truths mentioned above. This is more for me than you. So shut up, absorb and embrace.
Readers, only if you have your non-judgemental glasses and open-mind hats on, will you be allowed to go beyond this point. A point of no return, if you do decide to judge and alter current impressions about me. A point of change in our relationship, if you decide to embrace my untold truths and let me unravel in front of you.
1. I love Bollywood songs. LOVE. I switch on MTV (Non-Stop Hits) or Channel V(Zabardast Hits) as soon as I wake up. I enjoy hip-hop, house, trance, electronica and rock sometimes, but LOVE bollywood music and telugu too, on occasion.
2. I dance around the house in my purple nightie, with 'haldi' on my pimples and protein cream on my thinning hair.
3. I have already kissed two younger men and I am only 23. Am I a cradle snatcher?
4. I remember, laughing at the concept of arranged marriage for years together and still do openly rip it to pieces within conversations with friends. But as Hetch pointed out, and that moment I vehemently denied it, I am secretly hoping that I can find the 'perfect' guy for me through this traditional system of finding mates. I am tired of playing this love game, sick of heart breaks and wish that love would just fall into my lap this time, without effort or complication.
5. I blame myself for my failed relationships. I wish I had done things differently. I wish I had not hurt my Exs, even if it was inadvertent and unintentional.
6. I love eating Cerelac. I could eat it all day long. I need to grow up.
7. I generally appear confident about my curvaceous figure, my curly hair and my dusky complexion but I secretly wonder how life would have been different if was skinny, fair and had long, straight hair.
8. I love licking my plate after I am done eating Maggi Noodles or 'Rasam' and rice.
9. I wish I had let loose in Canada, travelled more and made more friends, rather than concentrate on studying and working on my career through the four years that I was there.
10. I secretly freak out that I chose the wrong career. I fantasize about an alternate career and lifestyle as a singer, dancer ,an actor, a social worker, a poet or even a copywriter. Yes, Alok and Hetch can please go ahead and feel privileged to be what I could never be.
11. I bite my tongue every time I am rude or sarcastic with mom but I can't help but get irritated with her, even though I love her immensely.
12. I wish I could be unselfish and help my Dad with his business. I know how happy it would make him and how unhappy it would make me and that keeps me on the fence. Isn't there a middle-ground?
13. I wish I could commit to the nice guys that love me and adore me. The guys I actually want can never do me justice, but I still want them. My head needs fixing.
14. I wish I had childhood friends like everyone else.
15. I can never remember directions, even to places I go to everyday. Is something medically wrong with me? I wish I could get a navigating system installed in my head.
16. I am known to be a person of fleeting interest. I am shit-scared that I will never be able to settle down with one person because he might not be able to entertain and engage me every day for the rest of my life. How will I get married? And stay married?
Note: No one is allowed to question me on the truths mentioned above. This is more for me than you. So shut up, absorb and embrace.
Jun 20, 2008
What's in a name?
Ask these people below. Enjoy!
Abe Ozo
Barbaby Wild
Igor Beaver
Constance Paine
Celia Fate
Izzy Foreel
Bob Loblaw
Harris Thinninout
Al Kida
Ayma Dommy
Charity Case
Drew A. Blanc
Harly Workin
Howie Blewitt
Constance Noring
Hank E. Pankie
Ida Hoe
Izzy Cumming
Dan Druff
Constance Wearing
Al beback
Barry D'Alive
Al cahall
Carrie Oakie
Mary Juana
Ralph Upchuck
Sy Philus
Watson Yurface
Rhoda Dick
Uben Hadd
Willie Dewer
P. Brain
Sophie Lizcock
Louise Lips
Thur Sheblows
Wilma Dickfit
Mick Stup
Phil Rupp
Dee Gullize Pot
Lou Sass
M T Bowels
P. Eve Doff
Max E. Padd
Pat Butt
Ray Pist
Stacy Rhect
Tim Buck II
Tess Tickles
Sandy Shore
Vye Brator
Willie B. Long
Rob Banks
Ray Beeze
R. Sole
Shlomo Sectshual
Source: golth.com
Note: Hetch stole my title for this post. Or maybe, great minds think alike.
Abe Ozo
Barbaby Wild
Igor Beaver
Constance Paine
Celia Fate
Izzy Foreel
Bob Loblaw
Harris Thinninout
Al Kida
Ayma Dommy
Charity Case
Drew A. Blanc
Harly Workin
Howie Blewitt
Constance Noring
Hank E. Pankie
Ida Hoe
Izzy Cumming
Dan Druff
Constance Wearing
Al beback
Barry D'Alive
Al cahall
Carrie Oakie
Mary Juana
Ralph Upchuck
Sy Philus
Watson Yurface
Rhoda Dick
Uben Hadd
Willie Dewer
P. Brain
Sophie Lizcock
Louise Lips
Thur Sheblows
Wilma Dickfit
Mick Stup
Phil Rupp
Dee Gullize Pot
Lou Sass
M T Bowels
P. Eve Doff
Max E. Padd
Pat Butt
Ray Pist
Stacy Rhect
Tim Buck II
Tess Tickles
Sandy Shore
Vye Brator
Willie B. Long
Rob Banks
Ray Beeze
R. Sole
Shlomo Sectshual
Source: golth.com
Note: Hetch stole my title for this post. Or maybe, great minds think alike.
the smoke stayed, the burn stayed. But, she was gone.
They enter the smoky club after a long day at work, looking forward to some good music and alcohol. R looks like he has been run over by a truck and S sure could use a little make up and some mousse for her hair.
S: Wow, this club is rockin’ tonight. I am kinda thirsty, can you get some beer for us?
R: Sure. Looks like the bar counter is crowded. I will be back.
Fifteen minutes later, a hassled yet triumphant R returns with two cans of Fosters. He opens one can for himself and starts to raise the can to his thirsty lips when S, after looking at her freshly manicured nails, turns to R and stops him just before his first sip.
S: Can you open my can please. I don’t want my nails to break.
R looks at her, keeps his can on the large speaker beside him and pops open her can and hands it over. He turns around and picks up his beer.
R: Cheers!!
But S has already gulped down two large sips of that cold, refreshing beer. She looks unapologetic, and yet mouths a quick sorry to R before turning around to give a series of celebrity, page-3 kisses to bunch of her guy friends. She introduces R to “her boys” as she calls them.
R: Hi M, Hi R, Hi U, Hi…..uhh what’s your name, sorry?
S: Oh don’t worry, I will tell you the name later.
She walks off with her beer. R stands in a corner watching S go over to the DJ booth and give the DJ and his friends a hug. She starts to get a lil’ jiggy with one of them too and R wonders why she called him her date for the evening when they were driving over to the club.
All poor R can do was to sip on that beer. And so he does, at an accelerated pace. He finishes his beer in a couple of minutes. The crowd is thumping and swaying to the loud hip-hop music, but he can only see her. Her voluptuous body gyrating to the island beats like no one could believe. The men around her are eyeing her like a pack of hungry dogs would do a piece of meat. R wants to walk over there and yank her back to safety. He wants her next to him. But he doesn't.
After what seemed like an eternity, she walks back to where R was.
S: You aren't you having fun. What’s your problem?
He wants to yell, “Well, you are supposed to be my date and I hate hip-hop music and I don’t know anyone here and you keep walking away from me. “ R stays quiet and shrugs his shoulders instead.She shrugs back her shoulders and starts to chat with some girl.
R: Can I have a sip of your beer?
S: No.
R is stunned. Did she just say "no"?
R: But I want a sip.
S: Then go get yourself another beer. I don’t want to give up the last two sips of mine because that would make me want another beer and I cannot afford another beer. It is 400 calories. How can you be so insensitive and not care about what’s important to me?
R: Oh. I’m sorry. I think I will get myself one.
R returns after another twenty minutes of bring jostled, groped and pushed around by drunks at the bar. S has finished that beer and is grinding this random guy to the ground. R is really getting upset now, but she suddenly walks over to him as soon as she sees him return. R is surprised. Maybe there is hope. She smiles at him, hugs him and starts to dance with him. R is panicking on the inside but still on the outside. He can’t dance for nuts. She is really turning him on now. He just wants to pull her hair back and kiss her. Right there, right then. He couldn’t. So he turns his face away and starts to message this friend to take his mind of the sexual tension brewing in his pants.
S: I cannot believe you are messaging some damn person while I am dancing with you. What the hell is wrong with you? Really!!
R is dumbstruck. It was amazing how loud and clear her voice was in all that din. She snatches his beer and takes two large gulps while she looks over into his phone to see who he was messaging.
S: N? Who is this? Do I know her? Is she hotter than me?
R starts to sweat. This was all going wrong. Why was she angry with him. And why was she drinking his beer. He had wanted to be the one to say “no” this time.
R(stuttering): She is just a friend.
S: Whatever, there are ten other guys here that would love to dance with me and pay attention to me when I am with them. You have yourself a good night then.
She pulls out a cigarette and touches the back pockets of her tight jeans looking for a lighter. R lights her smoke for her. He then holds her hand to keep her walking away.
S: Whatever man. I gotta go.
She blows the cigarette smoke in R’s face. And she is gone. The smoke stayed, the burn stayed. But she, the fire that had brightened his whole existence, was gone.
S: Wow, this club is rockin’ tonight. I am kinda thirsty, can you get some beer for us?
R: Sure. Looks like the bar counter is crowded. I will be back.
Fifteen minutes later, a hassled yet triumphant R returns with two cans of Fosters. He opens one can for himself and starts to raise the can to his thirsty lips when S, after looking at her freshly manicured nails, turns to R and stops him just before his first sip.
S: Can you open my can please. I don’t want my nails to break.
R looks at her, keeps his can on the large speaker beside him and pops open her can and hands it over. He turns around and picks up his beer.
R: Cheers!!
But S has already gulped down two large sips of that cold, refreshing beer. She looks unapologetic, and yet mouths a quick sorry to R before turning around to give a series of celebrity, page-3 kisses to bunch of her guy friends. She introduces R to “her boys” as she calls them.
R: Hi M, Hi R, Hi U, Hi…..uhh what’s your name, sorry?
S: Oh don’t worry, I will tell you the name later.
She walks off with her beer. R stands in a corner watching S go over to the DJ booth and give the DJ and his friends a hug. She starts to get a lil’ jiggy with one of them too and R wonders why she called him her date for the evening when they were driving over to the club.
All poor R can do was to sip on that beer. And so he does, at an accelerated pace. He finishes his beer in a couple of minutes. The crowd is thumping and swaying to the loud hip-hop music, but he can only see her. Her voluptuous body gyrating to the island beats like no one could believe. The men around her are eyeing her like a pack of hungry dogs would do a piece of meat. R wants to walk over there and yank her back to safety. He wants her next to him. But he doesn't.
After what seemed like an eternity, she walks back to where R was.
S: You aren't you having fun. What’s your problem?
He wants to yell, “Well, you are supposed to be my date and I hate hip-hop music and I don’t know anyone here and you keep walking away from me. “ R stays quiet and shrugs his shoulders instead.She shrugs back her shoulders and starts to chat with some girl.
R: Can I have a sip of your beer?
S: No.
R is stunned. Did she just say "no"?
R: But I want a sip.
S: Then go get yourself another beer. I don’t want to give up the last two sips of mine because that would make me want another beer and I cannot afford another beer. It is 400 calories. How can you be so insensitive and not care about what’s important to me?
R: Oh. I’m sorry. I think I will get myself one.
R returns after another twenty minutes of bring jostled, groped and pushed around by drunks at the bar. S has finished that beer and is grinding this random guy to the ground. R is really getting upset now, but she suddenly walks over to him as soon as she sees him return. R is surprised. Maybe there is hope. She smiles at him, hugs him and starts to dance with him. R is panicking on the inside but still on the outside. He can’t dance for nuts. She is really turning him on now. He just wants to pull her hair back and kiss her. Right there, right then. He couldn’t. So he turns his face away and starts to message this friend to take his mind of the sexual tension brewing in his pants.
S: I cannot believe you are messaging some damn person while I am dancing with you. What the hell is wrong with you? Really!!
R is dumbstruck. It was amazing how loud and clear her voice was in all that din. She snatches his beer and takes two large gulps while she looks over into his phone to see who he was messaging.
S: N? Who is this? Do I know her? Is she hotter than me?
R starts to sweat. This was all going wrong. Why was she angry with him. And why was she drinking his beer. He had wanted to be the one to say “no” this time.
R(stuttering): She is just a friend.
S: Whatever, there are ten other guys here that would love to dance with me and pay attention to me when I am with them. You have yourself a good night then.
She pulls out a cigarette and touches the back pockets of her tight jeans looking for a lighter. R lights her smoke for her. He then holds her hand to keep her walking away.
S: Whatever man. I gotta go.
She blows the cigarette smoke in R’s face. And she is gone. The smoke stayed, the burn stayed. But she, the fire that had brightened his whole existence, was gone.
Jun 19, 2008
the mystery of why men are never depressed... solved.
Men Are Just Happier People-- What do you expect from such simple creatures? Your last name stays put. The garage is all yours. Wedding plans take care of themselves. Chocolate is just another snack. You can be President. You can never be pregnant. You can wear a white T-shirt to a water park. You can wear NO shirt to a water park.
Car mechanics tell you the truth... The world is your urinal. You never have to drive to another gas station restroom because this one is just too icky. You don't have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt.
Same work, more pay. Wrinkles add character. Wedding dress $5000. Tux rental-$100. People never stare at your chest when you're talking to them. The occasional well-rendered belch is practically expected. New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet. One mood all the time.
Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat. You know stuff about tanks. A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase. You can open all your own jars. You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness. If someone forgets to invite you, he or she can still be your friend. Your underwear is $8.95 for a three-pack. Three pairs of shoes are more than enough. You almost never have strap problems in public. You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes. Everything on your face stays its original color. The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades. You only have to shave your face and neck. You can play with toys all your life. Your belly usually hides your big hips. One wallet and one pair of shoes -- one color for all seasons.
You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look. You can "do" your nails with a pocket knife. You have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache. You can do Christmas shopping for 25 relatives on December 24 in 25 minutes. No wonder men are happier.
This is a forward sent by a man-friend of mine and I chuckled at the immense amount of truth in it. Thought I'd share.
But hey, my dear man-friend, weren't you recently depressed about you losing your hair and being short and being a bad dancer, which in turn could lead to you being a single, old, bald geezer? I guess it was just a "mood-swing" and temporary :P
Note: These are his words after reading this post - "Yup, that mood-swing was the woman in me that decided to come out."
Car mechanics tell you the truth... The world is your urinal. You never have to drive to another gas station restroom because this one is just too icky. You don't have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt.
Same work, more pay. Wrinkles add character. Wedding dress $5000. Tux rental-$100. People never stare at your chest when you're talking to them. The occasional well-rendered belch is practically expected. New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet. One mood all the time.
Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat. You know stuff about tanks. A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase. You can open all your own jars. You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness. If someone forgets to invite you, he or she can still be your friend. Your underwear is $8.95 for a three-pack. Three pairs of shoes are more than enough. You almost never have strap problems in public. You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes. Everything on your face stays its original color. The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades. You only have to shave your face and neck. You can play with toys all your life. Your belly usually hides your big hips. One wallet and one pair of shoes -- one color for all seasons.
You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look. You can "do" your nails with a pocket knife. You have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache. You can do Christmas shopping for 25 relatives on December 24 in 25 minutes. No wonder men are happier.
This is a forward sent by a man-friend of mine and I chuckled at the immense amount of truth in it. Thought I'd share.
But hey, my dear man-friend, weren't you recently depressed about you losing your hair and being short and being a bad dancer, which in turn could lead to you being a single, old, bald geezer? I guess it was just a "mood-swing" and temporary :P
Note: These are his words after reading this post - "Yup, that mood-swing was the woman in me that decided to come out."
Jun 16, 2008
a sole for every soul? Sold !!
There are times when I randomly come across something during my routine work day that touches me and makes me take a step back and think. I came across TOMS Shoes and it left me deeply surprised. Deeply moved. Deeply amazed at the way someone gives back to the needy and justifies their place on this earth. Deeply guilty at insignificance of my own existence.
TOMS Shoes is derived from 'Shoes for Tommorrow' that came into inception when Blake Mycoskie had an epiphany on a trip to Argentina after competing the famous reality show - The Amazing Race. He was disturbed by the poverty in the country and the number of children who were running around on the streets without any protection for their feet. The pitter patter of their bare feet left an impression on Blake and he founded a company that runs on a simple yet profoundly brilliant and unique business model that connects the regular consumer population to a cause that needs the attention.
"Buy one pair of TOMS, and we donate a pair to a needy child somewhere in the world." Yes, it really is as simple as that and it works. A win-win in every way possible.
In their first year of inception, i.e. 2006 itself, they completed a "shoe drop" of 10,000 pairs of shoes to children in Argentina. They second "shoe drop" in November 2007 was for children in South Africa with a whopping 50,000 pairs of shoes. They are aiming to do their next "shoe drop" in the United States.
And these shoe drops are personally enriching experiences for the TOMS crew members who make the trip. An Official TOMS Blog blogger discusses one of the first deliveries on the South African drop: “She watched and eyed the bright pink pair of TOMS I had in my hand. Her little black foot was sweaty from wearing an old holey pair of shoes, too small for her feet. I slipped the shoe on her foot, but it was tight. I could see she was surprised when I told her, I was going to get a pair that fit her. I reached in my bag and pulled out the next size up which I slipped on her feet. They fit and a big smile appeared on her beautiful face. I stood up handed her the old shoes and gave her a big hug. I held her and thought: This gift of TOMS to this child is an even greater gift to me...”
A sole for every soul? Sold !!
Source: TOMS website, Wikipedia, TOMS fan and employee blogs
TOMS Shoes is derived from 'Shoes for Tommorrow' that came into inception when Blake Mycoskie had an epiphany on a trip to Argentina after competing the famous reality show - The Amazing Race. He was disturbed by the poverty in the country and the number of children who were running around on the streets without any protection for their feet. The pitter patter of their bare feet left an impression on Blake and he founded a company that runs on a simple yet profoundly brilliant and unique business model that connects the regular consumer population to a cause that needs the attention.
"Buy one pair of TOMS, and we donate a pair to a needy child somewhere in the world." Yes, it really is as simple as that and it works. A win-win in every way possible.
In their first year of inception, i.e. 2006 itself, they completed a "shoe drop" of 10,000 pairs of shoes to children in Argentina. They second "shoe drop" in November 2007 was for children in South Africa with a whopping 50,000 pairs of shoes. They are aiming to do their next "shoe drop" in the United States.
And these shoe drops are personally enriching experiences for the TOMS crew members who make the trip. An Official TOMS Blog blogger discusses one of the first deliveries on the South African drop: “She watched and eyed the bright pink pair of TOMS I had in my hand. Her little black foot was sweaty from wearing an old holey pair of shoes, too small for her feet. I slipped the shoe on her foot, but it was tight. I could see she was surprised when I told her, I was going to get a pair that fit her. I reached in my bag and pulled out the next size up which I slipped on her feet. They fit and a big smile appeared on her beautiful face. I stood up handed her the old shoes and gave her a big hug. I held her and thought: This gift of TOMS to this child is an even greater gift to me...”
A sole for every soul? Sold !!
Source: TOMS website, Wikipedia, TOMS fan and employee blogs
Jun 14, 2008
Unwritten
For all those who know me well, my pessimism won't come as a shock. I am an eternal pessimist and expect the worst for me and my future. It is some sort of a defense mechanism that allows me to not to have high expectations of success or happiness in various facets of my life that I have not lived yet. And hence minimises the risk of disappointment/hurt in the case the expectations are not met. It is as simple as thinking, "I knew it wasn't gonna happen anyway so there is nothing to be surprised or overtly upset about" instead of vice-versa. Possibly a flawed theory/perspective but it has worked for me so far.
But then come along small, unexpected rays of temporary optimism and uninhibited hope that bring a smile to my face, a glow to my cheek and a slight bounce to my step and this song did just that when I heard it this morning. Thanks Natasha Bedingfield for a great start to my day.
Unwritten
I am unwritten,
Can't read my mind
I'm undefined
I'm just beginning
The pen's in my hand
Ending unplanned
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten, yeah
Oh, oh
I break tradition
Sometimes my tries
Are outside the lines, oh yeah yeah
We've been conditioned
To not make mistakes
But I can't live that way oh, oh
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
the rest still unwritten
(Gospel)
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
The rest, and probably the best, is still unwritten. And I am can't wait to find out.
But then come along small, unexpected rays of temporary optimism and uninhibited hope that bring a smile to my face, a glow to my cheek and a slight bounce to my step and this song did just that when I heard it this morning. Thanks Natasha Bedingfield for a great start to my day.
Unwritten
I am unwritten,
Can't read my mind
I'm undefined
I'm just beginning
The pen's in my hand
Ending unplanned
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten, yeah
Oh, oh
I break tradition
Sometimes my tries
Are outside the lines, oh yeah yeah
We've been conditioned
To not make mistakes
But I can't live that way oh, oh
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
the rest still unwritten
(Gospel)
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
The rest, and probably the best, is still unwritten. And I am can't wait to find out.
Jun 5, 2008
give up or give in?
They say that addiction is for the weak. Addicts, are (apparently) those who cannot control their emotions and succumb to that one bad habit again and again till it consumes them completely. Consumes their lives, their rationale, their bank balances, their senses, their thoughts, their future, their perceptions, their relationships, their sanity. Consumes their soul. And irrevocably, at that.
To the contrary, I believe that there a lies a certain amount of strength to be an addict. An addiction is a choice to let your whole and soul be taken over by something external. To let go. To lose control. To hand over the power and take chances. To be risqué. To really revel in the pleasure and pain of the addiction without being too chicken to experience the roller coaster ride that if offers. The first step is the hardest step. Takes you straight into the unknown. But as the affair progresses, it takes balls to have full knowledge of how something will destroy you, your life and everything you know and value, but still continue to let yourself fall deeper and deeper into it. It takes commitment to give up everything for one thing and I amazed by those who succumb to their addictions and choose a deviant, possibly fulfilling yet short existence.
Note: This post and I do not condone drugs, cigarettes (sex is an exception :), but be safe) or other addictive substances. I am dead against it and you would know if you ask my poor smoker/druggie friends who I have nagged for eternity now. This post just offers another perspective. Being a non-smoker and a non-druggie often makes me wonder what it takes to be one.
To the contrary, I believe that there a lies a certain amount of strength to be an addict. An addiction is a choice to let your whole and soul be taken over by something external. To let go. To lose control. To hand over the power and take chances. To be risqué. To really revel in the pleasure and pain of the addiction without being too chicken to experience the roller coaster ride that if offers. The first step is the hardest step. Takes you straight into the unknown. But as the affair progresses, it takes balls to have full knowledge of how something will destroy you, your life and everything you know and value, but still continue to let yourself fall deeper and deeper into it. It takes commitment to give up everything for one thing and I amazed by those who succumb to their addictions and choose a deviant, possibly fulfilling yet short existence.
Note: This post and I do not condone drugs, cigarettes (sex is an exception :), but be safe) or other addictive substances. I am dead against it and you would know if you ask my poor smoker/druggie friends who I have nagged for eternity now. This post just offers another perspective. Being a non-smoker and a non-druggie often makes me wonder what it takes to be one.
May 31, 2008
Hummin'
David Guetta at his best...
Love is gone.
What are we supposed to do
After all that we’ve been through
When everything that felt so right is wrong
Now that the love is gone
There is nothing left to prove
No use to deny this simple truth
Can’t find the reason to keep holding on
Now that the love is gone
Love is gone
Love is gone
Love is gone
It's a hard time
Love is gone
It's a hard time
Got to find the reason
Got to find a reason
Got to find a reason to hold on
Love is gone.
What are we supposed to do
After all that we’ve been through
When everything that felt so right is wrong
Now that the love is gone
There is nothing left to prove
No use to deny this simple truth
Can’t find the reason to keep holding on
Now that the love is gone
Love is gone
Love is gone
Love is gone
It's a hard time
Love is gone
It's a hard time
Got to find the reason
Got to find a reason
Got to find a reason to hold on
May 30, 2008
a night under the sun??
"What?"
"A night under the sun??"
"It doesn't set till March??? But we are in September now."
"How am I supposed to sleep when the sky is still bright?"
"It's cold. I can deal with that. But what's with the sun not setting at night?"
"You guys are weird up here in Antarctica. I am going to Hawaii for my next vacation. Its normal there."
exclaimed Joe, our average American tourist.
"A night under the sun??"
"It doesn't set till March??? But we are in September now."
"How am I supposed to sleep when the sky is still bright?"
"It's cold. I can deal with that. But what's with the sun not setting at night?"
"You guys are weird up here in Antarctica. I am going to Hawaii for my next vacation. Its normal there."
exclaimed Joe, our average American tourist.
May 28, 2008
those forgotten fragrances...
of the spicy, raw mango pickle on my Grandma's hands when she would feed me lunch during my summer vacations at her place.
of the musky, manly after-shave that my dad would use when I was a kid. He would carry me in his arms and I would stick my little face into his neck. I absolutely loved that smell on him.
of the warm, oily, crispy vadas that mom would make every Sunday morning. My brother and I would impatiently wait outside the kitchen with our plates and a bowl full of fresh coconut chutney.
of the jasmine flowers, that my maid would put in her hair every morning. I would insist that my jasmine garland be longer that hers, no matter what.
of the ghee and sugar-filled milk halwa that my other Grandma would make every Thursday morning to lay as 'prasadam' in front of Sai baba. I would pretend to pray till she closed her eyes and then jump at the halwa, digging both my hands into it and stuff my face until she realized what I was upto.
of the first rain, every summer in Delhi. The aroma of wet mud when it tastes rain after that long, hot, beating summer is deliciouly appealing.
of the warm, bournvita milk that dad would make for me at 5 am on those chilly-Delhi winter mornings to wake me up to study for my board exams.
of the salty, humid wind by our seaside apartment in Mumbai. I could just sit at the window taking in the sights and smells of the ocean, for hours.
of the cigar-smoke filled balcony where I would go looking for grandpa when I woke up in the middle of the night from bad dreams.
of the flavoured agarbattis, that were burnt in and around the house after evening pooja on Diwali.
Oh, what I would do to travel back in time to those forgotten fragrances.
of the musky, manly after-shave that my dad would use when I was a kid. He would carry me in his arms and I would stick my little face into his neck. I absolutely loved that smell on him.
of the warm, oily, crispy vadas that mom would make every Sunday morning. My brother and I would impatiently wait outside the kitchen with our plates and a bowl full of fresh coconut chutney.
of the jasmine flowers, that my maid would put in her hair every morning. I would insist that my jasmine garland be longer that hers, no matter what.
of the ghee and sugar-filled milk halwa that my other Grandma would make every Thursday morning to lay as 'prasadam' in front of Sai baba. I would pretend to pray till she closed her eyes and then jump at the halwa, digging both my hands into it and stuff my face until she realized what I was upto.
of the first rain, every summer in Delhi. The aroma of wet mud when it tastes rain after that long, hot, beating summer is deliciouly appealing.
of the warm, bournvita milk that dad would make for me at 5 am on those chilly-Delhi winter mornings to wake me up to study for my board exams.
of the salty, humid wind by our seaside apartment in Mumbai. I could just sit at the window taking in the sights and smells of the ocean, for hours.
of the cigar-smoke filled balcony where I would go looking for grandpa when I woke up in the middle of the night from bad dreams.
of the flavoured agarbattis, that were burnt in and around the house after evening pooja on Diwali.
Oh, what I would do to travel back in time to those forgotten fragrances.
'Ab gorapan tumhare haath mein!'
"Don't forget to apply sunscreen before you leave the house" yells her mother, as Vaishnavi picks her bag and lunch box and quickly catches a glance at herself in the mirror by the door. If I looked at Vaishu, I would notice her almond shaped, dark and mysterious eyes, her flawless skin and her luscious, wavy, jet black hair. But Vaishu could not look beyond the colour of her skin, which was a deep bronze. Even though her skin was exquisitely beautiful, free of scars and zits, which was almost impossible at the adoloscent age of fifteen, fair skin was all Vaishu wished for, day and night.
She hated that her classmates in school called her 'kaalu from karnataka'. She hated that all her friends were fair-skinned, thanks to their purely punjabi parents. She hated that her mother would not allow her to play tennis or swim in the summer. She hated being dark. She hated being told that no one would ever marry her because she was so dark. She hated her aunts applying all kinds of concoctions to her face everyday trying to lighten her skin. She hated her relatives, commenting on how unfortunate it is that she is dark even though her mother is fair. She really hated being dark.
Vaishu picked up the newspaper in the school cafeteria while she ate her sandwich at lunch time. She saw an advertisement for the latest 'sunscreen lotion' with SPF 45and a special fairness meter device launched by one of her favourite cosmetic companies. The 'before' picture in the ad showed a dark girl, who was hiding behind the door, while she looked at her 'crush' walk away with some fair bimbo. The after picture showed a visibly fairer girl walking up to her crush with confidence and asking him out for dinner. Vaishu wanted to be the latter. She really wanted to get Alok's attention, but Alok had eyes only for Preeti. Preeti was not exactly pretty, but she was fair. I guess that's all it takes, Vaishu thought.
She scrounged around in her pocket to see if she had money to buy the new lotion on her way home. She had enough saved from all the part-time tution classes she had been giving to her juniors in school. She almost ran to the store, eager to buy the magic cream and use it. She wanted to get Alok's attention before the Annual Day dance. She wanted mother to allow her to start swimming again. She wanted her friends to admire her newly acquired fair skin.
This new 'sunscreen' was going to turn her life around and Vaishu beamed with hope as she took the bottle home and yanked the plastic wrapper off eagerly. She couldn't wait...
She hated that her classmates in school called her 'kaalu from karnataka'. She hated that all her friends were fair-skinned, thanks to their purely punjabi parents. She hated that her mother would not allow her to play tennis or swim in the summer. She hated being dark. She hated being told that no one would ever marry her because she was so dark. She hated her aunts applying all kinds of concoctions to her face everyday trying to lighten her skin. She hated her relatives, commenting on how unfortunate it is that she is dark even though her mother is fair. She really hated being dark.
Vaishu picked up the newspaper in the school cafeteria while she ate her sandwich at lunch time. She saw an advertisement for the latest 'sunscreen lotion' with SPF 45and a special fairness meter device launched by one of her favourite cosmetic companies. The 'before' picture in the ad showed a dark girl, who was hiding behind the door, while she looked at her 'crush' walk away with some fair bimbo. The after picture showed a visibly fairer girl walking up to her crush with confidence and asking him out for dinner. Vaishu wanted to be the latter. She really wanted to get Alok's attention, but Alok had eyes only for Preeti. Preeti was not exactly pretty, but she was fair. I guess that's all it takes, Vaishu thought.
She scrounged around in her pocket to see if she had money to buy the new lotion on her way home. She had enough saved from all the part-time tution classes she had been giving to her juniors in school. She almost ran to the store, eager to buy the magic cream and use it. She wanted to get Alok's attention before the Annual Day dance. She wanted mother to allow her to start swimming again. She wanted her friends to admire her newly acquired fair skin.
This new 'sunscreen' was going to turn her life around and Vaishu beamed with hope as she took the bottle home and yanked the plastic wrapper off eagerly. She couldn't wait...
May 19, 2008
Runnin'...
"You know, I wonder if they'll laugh when I am dead
Why am I fighting to live, if I'm just living to fight
Why am I trying to see, when there aint nothing in sight
Why am I trying to give, when no one gives me a try
Why am I dying to live, if I'm just living to die."
The perfect song for my state of mind right now. But it's alright. I am glad I won't go away quietly. I will raise hell before I reach hell. I will live till I die. No more runnin'...
Why am I fighting to live, if I'm just living to fight
Why am I trying to see, when there aint nothing in sight
Why am I trying to give, when no one gives me a try
Why am I dying to live, if I'm just living to die."
The perfect song for my state of mind right now. But it's alright. I am glad I won't go away quietly. I will raise hell before I reach hell. I will live till I die. No more runnin'...
Apr 29, 2008
WTF??????
I am a prospective MBA student who wants to apply to schools in the US as mentioned before on this blog, so I end up reading a lot of related articles from businessweek online to gain perspective and keep myself aware.
I saw this article titled 'Degree arrives, Job Vanishes' by an Indian guy named Sunny, who was raised in America, I assume, because the article says he grew up in Queens. He writes about his experience being a recent graduate from Ross School of Business, Michigan with a withdrawn post-mba job offer from the financial giant Bear Stearns that was taken over by JPMorgan Chase recently. The article talks about his struggle to find himself another job and is written well, but what shocked the living wits out of me were the comments that were posted by readers under the article. About half of the comments ranged from offensive to borderline racist to completely unacceptable. I cannot believe that so much racism can exist, even today, in a country like the United States that has such a mixed culture and where the economy is heavily contributed to, by 'coloured' people. I guess, the pressure of the recession there is making certain Americans even more hostile towards foreigners in their country, who might have/take the jobs that they don't have.
The link to the article:
http://www.businessweek.com/bschools/content/apr2008/bs20080427_135843.htm?campaign_id=alerts
You can scroll down to the bottom of the page to read those atrocious comments.
I saw this article titled 'Degree arrives, Job Vanishes' by an Indian guy named Sunny, who was raised in America, I assume, because the article says he grew up in Queens. He writes about his experience being a recent graduate from Ross School of Business, Michigan with a withdrawn post-mba job offer from the financial giant Bear Stearns that was taken over by JPMorgan Chase recently. The article talks about his struggle to find himself another job and is written well, but what shocked the living wits out of me were the comments that were posted by readers under the article. About half of the comments ranged from offensive to borderline racist to completely unacceptable. I cannot believe that so much racism can exist, even today, in a country like the United States that has such a mixed culture and where the economy is heavily contributed to, by 'coloured' people. I guess, the pressure of the recession there is making certain Americans even more hostile towards foreigners in their country, who might have/take the jobs that they don't have.
The link to the article:
http://www.businessweek.com/bschools/content/apr2008/bs20080427_135843.htm?campaign_id=alerts
You can scroll down to the bottom of the page to read those atrocious comments.
Apr 28, 2008
Dear Diary,
7:00 AM Hit the snooze button on that nasty, shrill cellphone alarm.
7:15 AM Dragged myself out of bed. Showered, brushed and dressed with my eyes closed. I am talented that way.
7:45 AM Dragged my laptop and other office peripherals down to the breakfast table. Managed to stuff a toast,an omelette and my daily dose of 4 colourful pills down my throat.... all with my eyes still closed. I know, this is starting to sound unbelievable, but trust me on this.
8:00 AM Finally, the bright daylight outside forces my eyes open and I hop into my Santro to zip through the excitingly unpredictable Hyderabad traffic to get to work.
8:30 AM Sharukh and the Santro advertisements lie. Zip-driving does not depend on the car, but on the traffic. Thanks to my rahu-shani conspiring against me, all the rash motorcyclists, broken-down buses and the slowest autos were all in my way. Still got another thirty minutes to go.
9:05 AM Wohoo, made it to office without any scratches on my precious car. Good job, babe! Walked into this 9-6 training that I was nominated for - Creativity and Problem Solving, it is called. The trainer is late... Damn, the day I make it on time, the trainer is late...Grrr.
10:30 AM The trainer walks in. I want to be mad at him but he greets us with this sweet, genuine smile and complains about the traffic in Hyderabad and I immediately warm up to him. He is a middle-aged man who has served 22 years in the US Navy and now works with a Training and Development company.
11:30 AM After the initial discussion about the program and basic definitions of 'creativity' and 'innovation', we were asked to sit in a circle. We followed instructions. We were then, asked to extemporeaneously make an advertisement for a floor-cleaning detergent called clean n glow. The most unexpected people came out with the wittiest, funniest commercials ever. Fantastic experience. Gave us all a headrush.
1:00 PM Boring lunch at boring cafeteria.
2:00 PM Some more talk about techniques to enhance creativity at the workplace.
3:00 PM The trainer decides we look sleepy and says we have another activity to go. So I am all charged thinking it might be another commercial but to my surprise and somewhat confusion, the trainer pulls out an egg from his bag and hands it to me and says 'This is yours.' My team and I are staring at the egg for a minute or two till he proceeds to explain what we are to do with the egg. He explains that the activity is to throw the egg from the fourth floor of the office building on to the concrete ground below. We are ummm, dumbstruck. He then passes on four balloons, a couple of plastic straws, thread, tape and newspaper and says you have an hour.
3:30 PM The team is still arguing among itself to decide whose contraption idea would be best to save our precious egg from the impact of the fall. Finally, one guy who stopped arguing and starting building his contraption won as we were running out of time on this one.
4:00 PM It was ready. Our contraption. There was a newspaper parachute attached to straws that held a huge balloon which had another balloon in it that in turn had our precious egg. A few more balloons were added under the "egg" balloon for cushioning effect. This was all the on-the-spot engineering that we could manage.
4:15 PM The fateful moment arrived. All the teams were ready to face their destiny. One egg out of five broke. It wasn't ours and we were ecstatic. It made me think, if it is possible to throw an egg from the fourth floor of a building and not let it break ( in four possible ways), there is hope in the world for so much...
5:00 PM All the teams flushed with energy and passion, came back into the room, ready to get done with this training. The last activity for the day was to 'save your balloon'. Every person was given one balloon and one toothpick and the aim of the game was to 'save your balloon'. The trainer uttered the words and everyone started running to others and bursting their balloons. This insanity continued till there was no one with an intact balloon. The trainer then said, "the objective was to save your balloon, not puncture other's balloons." Everyone just looks at each other. I guess we are instinctively trying to step on others to reach our goals.
6:00 PM I went over to my desk, wrote a script for a movie we are making for a women's conference and then left office to battle the traffic again.
Whew, what a long day, but boy was it fun.
7:15 AM Dragged myself out of bed. Showered, brushed and dressed with my eyes closed. I am talented that way.
7:45 AM Dragged my laptop and other office peripherals down to the breakfast table. Managed to stuff a toast,an omelette and my daily dose of 4 colourful pills down my throat.... all with my eyes still closed. I know, this is starting to sound unbelievable, but trust me on this.
8:00 AM Finally, the bright daylight outside forces my eyes open and I hop into my Santro to zip through the excitingly unpredictable Hyderabad traffic to get to work.
8:30 AM Sharukh and the Santro advertisements lie. Zip-driving does not depend on the car, but on the traffic. Thanks to my rahu-shani conspiring against me, all the rash motorcyclists, broken-down buses and the slowest autos were all in my way. Still got another thirty minutes to go.
9:05 AM Wohoo, made it to office without any scratches on my precious car. Good job, babe! Walked into this 9-6 training that I was nominated for - Creativity and Problem Solving, it is called. The trainer is late... Damn, the day I make it on time, the trainer is late...Grrr.
10:30 AM The trainer walks in. I want to be mad at him but he greets us with this sweet, genuine smile and complains about the traffic in Hyderabad and I immediately warm up to him. He is a middle-aged man who has served 22 years in the US Navy and now works with a Training and Development company.
11:30 AM After the initial discussion about the program and basic definitions of 'creativity' and 'innovation', we were asked to sit in a circle. We followed instructions. We were then, asked to extemporeaneously make an advertisement for a floor-cleaning detergent called clean n glow. The most unexpected people came out with the wittiest, funniest commercials ever. Fantastic experience. Gave us all a headrush.
1:00 PM Boring lunch at boring cafeteria.
2:00 PM Some more talk about techniques to enhance creativity at the workplace.
3:00 PM The trainer decides we look sleepy and says we have another activity to go. So I am all charged thinking it might be another commercial but to my surprise and somewhat confusion, the trainer pulls out an egg from his bag and hands it to me and says 'This is yours.' My team and I are staring at the egg for a minute or two till he proceeds to explain what we are to do with the egg. He explains that the activity is to throw the egg from the fourth floor of the office building on to the concrete ground below. We are ummm, dumbstruck. He then passes on four balloons, a couple of plastic straws, thread, tape and newspaper and says you have an hour.
3:30 PM The team is still arguing among itself to decide whose contraption idea would be best to save our precious egg from the impact of the fall. Finally, one guy who stopped arguing and starting building his contraption won as we were running out of time on this one.
4:00 PM It was ready. Our contraption. There was a newspaper parachute attached to straws that held a huge balloon which had another balloon in it that in turn had our precious egg. A few more balloons were added under the "egg" balloon for cushioning effect. This was all the on-the-spot engineering that we could manage.
4:15 PM The fateful moment arrived. All the teams were ready to face their destiny. One egg out of five broke. It wasn't ours and we were ecstatic. It made me think, if it is possible to throw an egg from the fourth floor of a building and not let it break ( in four possible ways), there is hope in the world for so much...
5:00 PM All the teams flushed with energy and passion, came back into the room, ready to get done with this training. The last activity for the day was to 'save your balloon'. Every person was given one balloon and one toothpick and the aim of the game was to 'save your balloon'. The trainer uttered the words and everyone started running to others and bursting their balloons. This insanity continued till there was no one with an intact balloon. The trainer then said, "the objective was to save your balloon, not puncture other's balloons." Everyone just looks at each other. I guess we are instinctively trying to step on others to reach our goals.
6:00 PM I went over to my desk, wrote a script for a movie we are making for a women's conference and then left office to battle the traffic again.
Whew, what a long day, but boy was it fun.
Apr 24, 2008
Happy Birthday!
Yaaay, It is 'the Sushi bar's' first birthday this month. I am surprised that I have nurtured this baby for a year now. For a person of fleeting interest in things, I am quite surprised at my sustained interest in this blog. It has been a friend, a therapist, an ego-booster (thanks to some regular readers who say they like to come back here often), an ego-deflater(I used to think I am a good writer, till I ran into all these other great writers who humbled me, namely Bhavna, Morpheus, Fictitioustruth, Ram Cobain, Walker etc), and a warm shelter too.
Happy First Birthday. Thanks for being there(except during power cuts, internet issues and laptop crashings). I sure hope I can take you to your second birthday next year.
Happy First Birthday. Thanks for being there(except during power cuts, internet issues and laptop crashings). I sure hope I can take you to your second birthday next year.
Apr 17, 2008
Strange love.
Hugs to hari for sending me this bit of beautiful writing below. It's delightful!!
once i had a strange love,
a mad sort of insane love,
a love so fast and fierce i thought i'd die
yes once i had a strange love,
a pure but very pained love,
a love that burned like fire through a field
oh once i had a strange love,
a childlike but deranged love,
a love that if were bottled it would kill.
see once i had a strange love,
a secret and untamed love,
a love that took no prisoners at all
and once i had a strange love
a psychic unexplained love,
a love that challenged scientific facts
and then there was that strange love,
that very badly trained love,
a love that needed discipline and facts
once i had a strange love
a public acclaimed love,
the kind of love that's seen in magazines.
and once i had a strange love,
a beautiful but vained love,
a love i think it's better left in dreams
and once i had a strange love,
a morally inflamed love,
we'd go on holy battles in the nights
and then there was that strange love
that vulgar and profane love,
the kind of love that we don't talk about
yes, once i had a strange love,
a lying infidel love,
who wove in stories like sherazade
and once i had a strange love,
a flaky white kinky love,
we ran so fast we almost spilled our guts..
you see i've had some strange love,
some good, some bad, some plain love,
some so-so love, and c'est la vie...
but just let me proclaim that, out of all the strange love you're the strangest love i've ever known....
once i had a strange love,
a mad sort of insane love,
a love so fast and fierce i thought i'd die
yes once i had a strange love,
a pure but very pained love,
a love that burned like fire through a field
oh once i had a strange love,
a childlike but deranged love,
a love that if were bottled it would kill.
see once i had a strange love,
a secret and untamed love,
a love that took no prisoners at all
and once i had a strange love
a psychic unexplained love,
a love that challenged scientific facts
and then there was that strange love,
that very badly trained love,
a love that needed discipline and facts
once i had a strange love
a public acclaimed love,
the kind of love that's seen in magazines.
and once i had a strange love,
a beautiful but vained love,
a love i think it's better left in dreams
and once i had a strange love,
a morally inflamed love,
we'd go on holy battles in the nights
and then there was that strange love
that vulgar and profane love,
the kind of love that we don't talk about
yes, once i had a strange love,
a lying infidel love,
who wove in stories like sherazade
and once i had a strange love,
a flaky white kinky love,
we ran so fast we almost spilled our guts..
you see i've had some strange love,
some good, some bad, some plain love,
some so-so love, and c'est la vie...
but just let me proclaim that, out of all the strange love you're the strangest love i've ever known....
Apr 15, 2008
Self-love is the best love.
I think I have lost touch with myself somewhere along the way. I can't just be alone anymore. My destructive, dark thoughts eat me up when I have no one else to distract me. I don't enjoy my company. If I don't enjoy being with me, who will?
I read a quote somewhere that says, the difference between the glowing success story and the crushing failure isn't luck, or fate, or intelligence, it's the ability to bounce back. So true, and that only comes from really knowing your worth and realising that you have the power to do whatever you want. To love and believe in yourself, is the hardest task for me, but once I master it, I am the master of the world. ( Wait!!! gender-baised words in this sentence are bugging me...but I don't think I can say 'once I mistress it', can I?)
A poem below by Veronica A. Shoffstall, who at a tender age of nineteen, really understood the essence of it all and penned it so beautifully:
After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you are really strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn...
I read a quote somewhere that says, the difference between the glowing success story and the crushing failure isn't luck, or fate, or intelligence, it's the ability to bounce back. So true, and that only comes from really knowing your worth and realising that you have the power to do whatever you want. To love and believe in yourself, is the hardest task for me, but once I master it, I am the master of the world. ( Wait!!! gender-baised words in this sentence are bugging me...but I don't think I can say 'once I mistress it', can I?)
A poem below by Veronica A. Shoffstall, who at a tender age of nineteen, really understood the essence of it all and penned it so beautifully:
After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you are really strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn...
Apr 6, 2008
A sad state of affairs.
Every morning is a war. I wake up with a mission to get through another day, to make it to the other side, even if I have to crawl till the finish line. I put my armour on - my fake smile taking attention away from my melancholic eyes, my "happy, go-lucky" attitude makes me forget my scars for the moment. I push the thoughts of self-doubt and self-pity to the very back of my conscious mind, to store it off somewhere so I can focus on the day at work and deal with those feelings later. And they come back to haunt me when I am naked, without my armour on, without my pretense on.
My mindless days end in restless nights.... nights of broken sleep and broken dreams. Did I ruin it all for myself? Am I my worst enemy? My endless rant is, if I could only go back in time, if I could only switch this one decision around....but it is never about one decision or one choice is it. It seems like the pawns have been played very carefully by destiny/whoever it is that is pulling my strings up there in really bringing me to this standstill. I am in the middle of quicksand that will engulf me if I stay at status quo for another minute, but one step forward is too risky and one step backward is dangerously comfortable.
I look at the single rose, he gave me. A warm, fuzzy feeling fills up my wounded heart. The glistening drops of dew on it, remind me of dawn, of hope. It makes me smile. But I know in a few days, the petals will wilt away,...and disappear and so will his small gestures and his vow to change his past ways. It also makes me cry. He tugs at my heart with his hopeful eyes, his pleading, soft voice making promises of a brighter tomorrow for us. But the voices in my head warn me....not to trust him or anyone again....not to let my guard down and leave myself vulnerable to all that pain that I went through before. I am cursed.... I live in an eternal state of confusion, of ambiguity, of hesitation ....If only I could choose, for once, with no regrets, whichever way it turns out. God, give me the strength to decide and move on or to decide and get lost in this sinful, painful pleasure called love.
My mindless days end in restless nights.... nights of broken sleep and broken dreams. Did I ruin it all for myself? Am I my worst enemy? My endless rant is, if I could only go back in time, if I could only switch this one decision around....but it is never about one decision or one choice is it. It seems like the pawns have been played very carefully by destiny/whoever it is that is pulling my strings up there in really bringing me to this standstill. I am in the middle of quicksand that will engulf me if I stay at status quo for another minute, but one step forward is too risky and one step backward is dangerously comfortable.
I look at the single rose, he gave me. A warm, fuzzy feeling fills up my wounded heart. The glistening drops of dew on it, remind me of dawn, of hope. It makes me smile. But I know in a few days, the petals will wilt away,...and disappear and so will his small gestures and his vow to change his past ways. It also makes me cry. He tugs at my heart with his hopeful eyes, his pleading, soft voice making promises of a brighter tomorrow for us. But the voices in my head warn me....not to trust him or anyone again....not to let my guard down and leave myself vulnerable to all that pain that I went through before. I am cursed.... I live in an eternal state of confusion, of ambiguity, of hesitation ....If only I could choose, for once, with no regrets, whichever way it turns out. God, give me the strength to decide and move on or to decide and get lost in this sinful, painful pleasure called love.
Apr 4, 2008
...
lost, cold, determined to move on, regretful, hopeful, unsure, nostalgic, hungry, hurt, angry, TIRED, numb, vengeful, DONE , drenched, loved, momentarily distracted, ready,looking to escape, lacking, at crossroads, a nomad, searching for the light, off-track, passionate, missing him, out there, restless, reluctant, "bitchy", existing...
I am.
note - this list will grow with me.
I am.
note - this list will grow with me.
Mar 22, 2008
On sick leave...!
....since two weeks now.
Mountains of antibiotic pills surround me, in colourful aluminium packaging that is still not enticing enough for me to pop them. I have a fear of pills that surpasses all my other fears of injections, pigeons and even the absolute worst one; of dying alone. Pills just have a way of going down my throat in the wrong angle and getting stuck there and no amount of water/squished banana/chocolates/rice will take the pill down to my stomach, where it belongs. I stare at the needle that has been sitting in my skin for four days now and realise that it has become numb... The pain is so consistent that it has become status quo. I am so used it to it I don't even feel like it's there anymore.
I feel scatterbrained, with random thoughts flying in and out of my head, like I am high or something.....maybe I am...on the pain or the pills or just the feeling of nothingness. I stare out of the window at the tree branch laden with crystal clear droplets of rain. It has been raining continuously for the past three days here in Hyderabad and it takes me through a roller coaster ride of depression and elation as I look out of the window. My feelings make me queasy. Stuck at home, in bed, with frequent trips to the bathroom and no where else, I have had enough and more time to brood over my life. Nothing much came out of the brooding though. Went over the same thoughts and decisions a million times more, came up with a few more regrets or a few other ways I could have handled things in the past...bleh..
My mother has been freaking out about the insanely high fever I am suffering from and the way my eyes were hurting and watering. Mum and the servants were literally on 24-hour duty trying to put a cold, wet cloth on my body to try and bring the fever down. She refused to let me sleep alone and would take me to the bathroom in the middle of the night when I needed to. I was delirious with the fever and maybe even happiness at how much my family cared about me. A whole bunch of my friends and colleagues also came to see me. It really brought my faith back in the people I love. They love me back yaaaay!
It's good to fall sick once in a while, to take a little step back from the fast track lives we lead.
To feel weak, vulnerable and incompetent.
To feel like you need to be taken care of.
To just sit around with an empty schedule with time for yourself, to heal your body, soul and mind.
To get a reminder of how many people care about you and to remember to cherish and appreciate.
To get comments on your unpopular blog from your one(two, occasionally) regular reader about how much he would like you to write more often.
To see your co-workers' concerned yet happy faces when you return to work after a long break.
To get into a fight with your mum about wanting your fav dish to eat cos your taste-buds refuse to touch anything else when your are sick.
To notice the small things...like the sun streaming in through the window, like the texture of your mom's saree as she wipes your sweaty,feverish face with it, like the wrinkle on your dad's forehead when he holds your hand while the nurse puts an iv in your vein, like the little, wild flowers growing outside the bathroom windowsill, like the tangy, tamarind taste of the 'tomato rasam' that my servant makes for me when I am sick.
To fight, get better and give life another shot.
Note- This one is especially dedicated to fictitioustruth for really nudging me to write after this long hiatus. Also, forgive the lack of flow in this piece....but that's how my head is right now.... extremely lost and scattered.
Mountains of antibiotic pills surround me, in colourful aluminium packaging that is still not enticing enough for me to pop them. I have a fear of pills that surpasses all my other fears of injections, pigeons and even the absolute worst one; of dying alone. Pills just have a way of going down my throat in the wrong angle and getting stuck there and no amount of water/squished banana/chocolates/rice will take the pill down to my stomach, where it belongs. I stare at the needle that has been sitting in my skin for four days now and realise that it has become numb... The pain is so consistent that it has become status quo. I am so used it to it I don't even feel like it's there anymore.
I feel scatterbrained, with random thoughts flying in and out of my head, like I am high or something.....maybe I am...on the pain or the pills or just the feeling of nothingness. I stare out of the window at the tree branch laden with crystal clear droplets of rain. It has been raining continuously for the past three days here in Hyderabad and it takes me through a roller coaster ride of depression and elation as I look out of the window. My feelings make me queasy. Stuck at home, in bed, with frequent trips to the bathroom and no where else, I have had enough and more time to brood over my life. Nothing much came out of the brooding though. Went over the same thoughts and decisions a million times more, came up with a few more regrets or a few other ways I could have handled things in the past...bleh..
My mother has been freaking out about the insanely high fever I am suffering from and the way my eyes were hurting and watering. Mum and the servants were literally on 24-hour duty trying to put a cold, wet cloth on my body to try and bring the fever down. She refused to let me sleep alone and would take me to the bathroom in the middle of the night when I needed to. I was delirious with the fever and maybe even happiness at how much my family cared about me. A whole bunch of my friends and colleagues also came to see me. It really brought my faith back in the people I love. They love me back yaaaay!
It's good to fall sick once in a while, to take a little step back from the fast track lives we lead.
To feel weak, vulnerable and incompetent.
To feel like you need to be taken care of.
To just sit around with an empty schedule with time for yourself, to heal your body, soul and mind.
To get a reminder of how many people care about you and to remember to cherish and appreciate.
To get comments on your unpopular blog from your one(two, occasionally) regular reader about how much he would like you to write more often.
To see your co-workers' concerned yet happy faces when you return to work after a long break.
To get into a fight with your mum about wanting your fav dish to eat cos your taste-buds refuse to touch anything else when your are sick.
To notice the small things...like the sun streaming in through the window, like the texture of your mom's saree as she wipes your sweaty,feverish face with it, like the wrinkle on your dad's forehead when he holds your hand while the nurse puts an iv in your vein, like the little, wild flowers growing outside the bathroom windowsill, like the tangy, tamarind taste of the 'tomato rasam' that my servant makes for me when I am sick.
To fight, get better and give life another shot.
Note- This one is especially dedicated to fictitioustruth for really nudging me to write after this long hiatus. Also, forgive the lack of flow in this piece....but that's how my head is right now.... extremely lost and scattered.
Feb 20, 2008
An ode to 'ok'
I have this friend who has recently started saying 'ok' as a response to everything I say. Whether I am being sarcastic or trying to explain my actions or telling him about some weird incident that happened with me....All I get out of him is ....'ok'. This has gone to the extent of his status message on gtalk being 'ok' and that's it.
Then he finally explained the meaning of that word in his dictionary. I thought it was quite wise.
An Ode to 'Ok':
Applications and Advantages of the simplest term in the English Language
By Bachu (my wittiest friend of them all)
"ok is the most amazing word in the english language, it is a conversation filler, it is a conversation ender, you can pretend to be listening to someone, and you can pretend to care, and you can acknowledge their stupidity, it's a fantastic word !"
and some more from him:
"you sincerely mean it when you say you understand
you say it when you want to get rid of someone
you say it when someone asks you how you're doing
you say it when someone asks you how much you liked something"
Point made, Ok? :P
Then he finally explained the meaning of that word in his dictionary. I thought it was quite wise.
An Ode to 'Ok':
Applications and Advantages of the simplest term in the English Language
By Bachu (my wittiest friend of them all)
"ok is the most amazing word in the english language, it is a conversation filler, it is a conversation ender, you can pretend to be listening to someone, and you can pretend to care, and you can acknowledge their stupidity, it's a fantastic word !"
and some more from him:
"you sincerely mean it when you say you understand
you say it when you want to get rid of someone
you say it when someone asks you how you're doing
you say it when someone asks you how much you liked something"
Point made, Ok? :P
Feb 19, 2008
Introspecting...
My head is always muddled. A constant battle about my current vs desired state of mind/life is hovering over my mind. I penned the issues down to give them the importance and attention they deserve. So they can be in front of my face - I am then forced to face them. Presenting .......questions plaguing Sue's mind:
Should I quit to pursue a creative career in writing ( or the slightly safer option of corporate communications) or Should I stay back in my secure, excel-oriented job? Am I even good enough to write professionally and full-time? If I make the switch, will I love it or will I be bored of that too?
Should I give this guy one last chance like he asks me to? Will he change for the better or will we be back at square one in a couple of months? If he does manage to change for me, would I feel guilty that I made him change? Will I regret it if I move on?
Am I being to selfish by working for a company other than my dad's while he needs my help there? Am I too self-involved to think that I have to prove my worth by making my own salary, separate from my parents' business? Am I wrong in thinking that my parents shouldn't have to pay for my MBA if I don't give them value through that degree?
Am I sure of what I want in life? Why don't I care that I don't have a clear plan for my future?
Is it ok to want a Ph.D. on top of my MBA? Will it add any value ? Is the 'Dr.' in front of my name worth another two years away from the job market and a few more thousand dollars?
Why do I prefer a love marriage over an arranged one? What is the guarantee that the former works better than the latter one?
Did I make the right decision by coming back to the homeland after a foreign degree? Are my buddies from school smarter for choosing to stay behind and work for a couple of years? Did I make my decision on the basis of emotions and just that?
Views??
Should I quit to pursue a creative career in writing ( or the slightly safer option of corporate communications) or Should I stay back in my secure, excel-oriented job? Am I even good enough to write professionally and full-time? If I make the switch, will I love it or will I be bored of that too?
Should I give this guy one last chance like he asks me to? Will he change for the better or will we be back at square one in a couple of months? If he does manage to change for me, would I feel guilty that I made him change? Will I regret it if I move on?
Am I being to selfish by working for a company other than my dad's while he needs my help there? Am I too self-involved to think that I have to prove my worth by making my own salary, separate from my parents' business? Am I wrong in thinking that my parents shouldn't have to pay for my MBA if I don't give them value through that degree?
Am I sure of what I want in life? Why don't I care that I don't have a clear plan for my future?
Is it ok to want a Ph.D. on top of my MBA? Will it add any value ? Is the 'Dr.' in front of my name worth another two years away from the job market and a few more thousand dollars?
Why do I prefer a love marriage over an arranged one? What is the guarantee that the former works better than the latter one?
Did I make the right decision by coming back to the homeland after a foreign degree? Are my buddies from school smarter for choosing to stay behind and work for a couple of years? Did I make my decision on the basis of emotions and just that?
Views??
Feb 18, 2008
Big girls don't cry...
Who would have thought that Fergie would be this deep - Hey, no double meanings here :). It really is a sweet, vulnerable song...love it! Give it a listen, her voice does the song justice.
BIG GIRLS DON'T CRY
La Da Da Da Da
The smell of your skin lingers on me now
You're probably on your flight back to your home town
I need some shelter of my own protection baby
To be with myself and Center, Clarity
Peace, Serenity
[CHORUS:]
I hope you know, I hope you know
That this has nothing to do with you
It's personal, myself and I
We've got some straightening out to do
And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
But I've got to get a move on with my life
It's time to be a big girl now
And big girls don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry
The path that I'm walking
I must go alone
I must take the baby steps 'til I'm full grown, full grown
Fairytales don't always have a happy ending, do they?
And I foresee the dark ahead if I stay
[CHORUS:]
I hope you know, I hope you know
That this has nothing to do with you
It's personal, myself and I
We've got some straightening out to do
And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
But I've got to get a move on with my life
It's time to be a big girl now
And big girls don't cry
Like the little school mate in the school yard
We'll play jacks and UNO cards
I'll be your best friend and you'll be mine Valentine
Yes you can hold my hand if you want to
'Cause I want to hold yours too
We'll be playmates and lovers and share our secret worlds
But it's time for me to go home
It's getting late, dark outside
I need to be with myself and Center, Clarity
Peace, Serenity
[CHORUS]
I hope you know, I hope you know
That this has nothing to do with you
It's personal, myself and I
We've got some straightening out to do
And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
But I've got to get a move on with my life
It's time to be a big girl now
And big girls don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry
La Da Da Da Da Da
BIG GIRLS DON'T CRY
La Da Da Da Da
The smell of your skin lingers on me now
You're probably on your flight back to your home town
I need some shelter of my own protection baby
To be with myself and Center, Clarity
Peace, Serenity
[CHORUS:]
I hope you know, I hope you know
That this has nothing to do with you
It's personal, myself and I
We've got some straightening out to do
And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
But I've got to get a move on with my life
It's time to be a big girl now
And big girls don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry
The path that I'm walking
I must go alone
I must take the baby steps 'til I'm full grown, full grown
Fairytales don't always have a happy ending, do they?
And I foresee the dark ahead if I stay
[CHORUS:]
I hope you know, I hope you know
That this has nothing to do with you
It's personal, myself and I
We've got some straightening out to do
And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
But I've got to get a move on with my life
It's time to be a big girl now
And big girls don't cry
Like the little school mate in the school yard
We'll play jacks and UNO cards
I'll be your best friend and you'll be mine Valentine
Yes you can hold my hand if you want to
'Cause I want to hold yours too
We'll be playmates and lovers and share our secret worlds
But it's time for me to go home
It's getting late, dark outside
I need to be with myself and Center, Clarity
Peace, Serenity
[CHORUS]
I hope you know, I hope you know
That this has nothing to do with you
It's personal, myself and I
We've got some straightening out to do
And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
But I've got to get a move on with my life
It's time to be a big girl now
And big girls don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry
La Da Da Da Da Da
Feb 5, 2008
MTV 'Rudies' 5.0 - The future of entertainment!
And I truly believe that!
MTV Roadies 5.0, wait... I'd rather call it MTV 'Rudies 5.0' is an absolute hit in my books. It is what I call the future of entertainment for this generation. The whole concept of bringing somewhat "cool", somewhat "confused" kids from around the block into a show where they are questioned, badgered, humiliated and even psycho-analyzed in some cases is absolutely brilliant. An interesting variant of 'reality' shows these days, is 'reality comedy' and Rudies is just that except that it is unintentionally hilarious.
Raghu and Nikhil as judges are awesome. I feel that Raghu especially is a great find for this show - half the TRPs they get is probably all thanks to his well-timed wit, cutting humour and those million dollar 'WTF' expressions that he has plastered on his face every time a wannabe roadie says something that is pretentious or fake. And the best part - I recently found out that he is Telugu...REPRESENT... yes, I am Telugu too (a fraud Telugu though cos I can't even speak the language properly). It is definitely nice to see that there are some of us who venture away from the well-tread career paths of medicine, engineering and software professionals.
Anyway, coming back to the auditions. Why would you need to visit a psychiatrist to understand the various mental issues and syndromes you suffer from or even get an accurate personality assessment done when you can fill a form for MTV 'Rudies' 5.0 .
Dr. Raghu and Dr. Nikhil know how to catch the fakers. They can tell - If you really are a wild child or just suffer from the 'spoilt brat' sundrome and are craving attention from peers and parents. And if you are from the latter group, they will take your trip like no one else before. They thrive on inconsistencies in your projected personality. One slip and raghu will flip his acerbic tongue out and devour you before you know it. I think I should go in for a free consultation with Dr. Raghu and Dr. Nikhil myself. They will be my personality/ image consultants.
The one thing I am confused about is the criteria that they use to eliminate or choose the contendors to take part in Roadies. The person comes totally grilled out of the audition room thinking 'Oh no, I am not cool enough for them' and then Raghu and Nikhil look at each other and say 'Definitely, roadie material! I'm glad we found him/her!" It is probably because I missed the first few episodes or maybe I am just not as clued in as Raghu and Nikhil are. Love those guys! :P
I am kinda bummed that the auditions are over. Truthfully, I can vouch for it that I will enjoy the auditions more than the actual show anyday. Jai Rudies!
MTV Roadies 5.0, wait... I'd rather call it MTV 'Rudies 5.0' is an absolute hit in my books. It is what I call the future of entertainment for this generation. The whole concept of bringing somewhat "cool", somewhat "confused" kids from around the block into a show where they are questioned, badgered, humiliated and even psycho-analyzed in some cases is absolutely brilliant. An interesting variant of 'reality' shows these days, is 'reality comedy' and Rudies is just that except that it is unintentionally hilarious.
Raghu and Nikhil as judges are awesome. I feel that Raghu especially is a great find for this show - half the TRPs they get is probably all thanks to his well-timed wit, cutting humour and those million dollar 'WTF' expressions that he has plastered on his face every time a wannabe roadie says something that is pretentious or fake. And the best part - I recently found out that he is Telugu...REPRESENT... yes, I am Telugu too (a fraud Telugu though cos I can't even speak the language properly). It is definitely nice to see that there are some of us who venture away from the well-tread career paths of medicine, engineering and software professionals.
Anyway, coming back to the auditions. Why would you need to visit a psychiatrist to understand the various mental issues and syndromes you suffer from or even get an accurate personality assessment done when you can fill a form for MTV 'Rudies' 5.0 .
Dr. Raghu and Dr. Nikhil know how to catch the fakers. They can tell - If you really are a wild child or just suffer from the 'spoilt brat' sundrome and are craving attention from peers and parents. And if you are from the latter group, they will take your trip like no one else before. They thrive on inconsistencies in your projected personality. One slip and raghu will flip his acerbic tongue out and devour you before you know it. I think I should go in for a free consultation with Dr. Raghu and Dr. Nikhil myself. They will be my personality/ image consultants.
The one thing I am confused about is the criteria that they use to eliminate or choose the contendors to take part in Roadies. The person comes totally grilled out of the audition room thinking 'Oh no, I am not cool enough for them' and then Raghu and Nikhil look at each other and say 'Definitely, roadie material! I'm glad we found him/her!" It is probably because I missed the first few episodes or maybe I am just not as clued in as Raghu and Nikhil are. Love those guys! :P
I am kinda bummed that the auditions are over. Truthfully, I can vouch for it that I will enjoy the auditions more than the actual show anyday. Jai Rudies!
Jan 24, 2008
And she will be loved
This is one song that touches my heart every time I hear it...
"Beauty queen of only eighteen
She had some trouble with herself
He was always there to help her
She always belonged to someone else
I drove for miles and miles
And wound up at your door
I've had you so many times but somehow
I want more
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
She will be loved
Tap on my window knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful
I know I tend to get so insecure
It doesn't matter anymore
It's not always rainbows and butterflies
It's compromise that moves us along, yeah
My heart is full and my door's always open
You can come anytime you want
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
I know where you hide
Alone in your car
Know all of the things that make you who you are
I know that goodbye means nothing at all
Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls
Tap on my window knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
Please don't try so hard to say goodbye
Yeah
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Try so hard to say goodbye..."
"Beauty queen of only eighteen
She had some trouble with herself
He was always there to help her
She always belonged to someone else
I drove for miles and miles
And wound up at your door
I've had you so many times but somehow
I want more
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
She will be loved
Tap on my window knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful
I know I tend to get so insecure
It doesn't matter anymore
It's not always rainbows and butterflies
It's compromise that moves us along, yeah
My heart is full and my door's always open
You can come anytime you want
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
I know where you hide
Alone in your car
Know all of the things that make you who you are
I know that goodbye means nothing at all
Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls
Tap on my window knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
Please don't try so hard to say goodbye
Yeah
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Try so hard to say goodbye..."
Jan 23, 2008
Bloody winter
Another one by Tarak, penned in one of his pensive, melancholy moods...
In the white winters I bleed with my wounds frozen
In my destiny to find you in the far northern lands
I have waited all my life to give you my love forever
A long battle I have fought through rain and sun
Through the light and darkness I have kept going on
A thousand battles I have fought with no sight of victory
Why in the name of love do i bleed
What battles need to be fought in the name of love
Now I am not the man I used to be
Broken by the cold winds that cut into me everyday
Death and destruction have come upon me
I crawl on the ground in the hope of life
Slowly the winter snow takes the color of my blood
In the white winters I bleed with my wounds frozen
In my destiny to find you in the far northern lands
I have waited all my life to give you my love forever
A long battle I have fought through rain and sun
Through the light and darkness I have kept going on
A thousand battles I have fought with no sight of victory
Why in the name of love do i bleed
What battles need to be fought in the name of love
Now I am not the man I used to be
Broken by the cold winds that cut into me everyday
Death and destruction have come upon me
I crawl on the ground in the hope of life
Slowly the winter snow takes the color of my blood
Jan 15, 2008
Here with me....
...
is that clumsy pot you made me at that pottery workshop you went to
is that song you sent me - Beautiful Girl by INXS - which plays too often thanks to the shuffle option on my iTunes
is that sweet testimonial you left me on Orkut
are those 'I love you/Can't live without you' and the 'I hate you/Should have never emotionally invested in you' messages that fill up my cellphone inbox
is that chic Guess purse that I exchanged for the top you bought for me on my birthday wishing it would fit and it didn't..
are those ticket stubs from the first movie (Batman something) we saw or didn't end up seeing ;)
is that weekend when I got grounded by my parents because you were stubbornly drunk about not leaving that friend's house till 5 AM in the morning
is that restaurant where we loved eating Malabar parathas and Kerela fish curry on Saturday afternoons
are those pictures of the good times and some bad times that play as my laptop screensaver
is that 'sorry' graffitti on Facebook when you made me cry about something worthlessly stupid
is that silver chain that broke when you tugged at it in the heat of the moment
is that bruise you gave me when you punched me in a play fight and then a real one
is that perfume you gave me on Valentine's Day...Oh wait, you still owe me one
is that striped top that you said makes me look fat and ruined my mood and my night
is that beautiful, purple embroidered 'jhola' and the matching earrings and necklace that you brought me from Goa
is that pub that I never go to anymore because of the way you screamed at me when we fought there
is the memory of every smile and every tear
Here with me, is everything except you...
Note: Here with me is also the hope that one day, it I won't hurt anymore.
is that clumsy pot you made me at that pottery workshop you went to
is that song you sent me - Beautiful Girl by INXS - which plays too often thanks to the shuffle option on my iTunes
is that sweet testimonial you left me on Orkut
are those 'I love you/Can't live without you' and the 'I hate you/Should have never emotionally invested in you' messages that fill up my cellphone inbox
is that chic Guess purse that I exchanged for the top you bought for me on my birthday wishing it would fit and it didn't..
are those ticket stubs from the first movie (Batman something) we saw or didn't end up seeing ;)
is that weekend when I got grounded by my parents because you were stubbornly drunk about not leaving that friend's house till 5 AM in the morning
is that restaurant where we loved eating Malabar parathas and Kerela fish curry on Saturday afternoons
are those pictures of the good times and some bad times that play as my laptop screensaver
is that 'sorry' graffitti on Facebook when you made me cry about something worthlessly stupid
is that silver chain that broke when you tugged at it in the heat of the moment
is that bruise you gave me when you punched me in a play fight and then a real one
is that perfume you gave me on Valentine's Day...Oh wait, you still owe me one
is that striped top that you said makes me look fat and ruined my mood and my night
is that beautiful, purple embroidered 'jhola' and the matching earrings and necklace that you brought me from Goa
is that pub that I never go to anymore because of the way you screamed at me when we fought there
is the memory of every smile and every tear
Here with me, is everything except you...
Note: Here with me is also the hope that one day, it I won't hurt anymore.
Jan 14, 2008
awww!
Someone adorable sent me something adorable....Just thought I'd share.
P.S. You can click on the image to make it large enough to read.
Goa does it again !
"In my immortal callings I stand before you
Into the oblivion the world I know sinks away
In your vastness I have come undone
For the love I feel for you is that of life and beyond
And a peace that belongs to my final resting place
As you come away with layers of white, that bear my naked soul
I knew the color of my soul was blue"
A friend who went to Goa at the end of an emotionally-taxing year ended up finding himself ... After some serious soul-searching, he wrote this beautiful piece for the ocean that gave him hope for the future. Reminded me of my own words from an earlier post - "The vast sea evokes a sense of humility, making me realise the size of me and my inconsequential issues compared to the unending waters that lay before me"
Good going Tarak..Hopin' you will share the other poems too..
Into the oblivion the world I know sinks away
In your vastness I have come undone
For the love I feel for you is that of life and beyond
And a peace that belongs to my final resting place
As you come away with layers of white, that bear my naked soul
I knew the color of my soul was blue"
A friend who went to Goa at the end of an emotionally-taxing year ended up finding himself ... After some serious soul-searching, he wrote this beautiful piece for the ocean that gave him hope for the future. Reminded me of my own words from an earlier post - "The vast sea evokes a sense of humility, making me realise the size of me and my inconsequential issues compared to the unending waters that lay before me"
Good going Tarak..Hopin' you will share the other poems too..
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