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
May 31, 2008
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'...
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