Bollywood Wishlist

Watching some awards ceremony on tv took me back to the time when as a kid I would look at the heroines on screen and wish I would own the dress they wore, as flamboyant as it may be.

1. Kimi Katkar in Hum:
I don't even remember how old I was when I watched the movie "Hum". I have definitely not watched it in the theater for sure. Maybe it was on cable, back when the cable guy would print out the schedule of pirated movies he would show during the coming week/month. Anyway, back to the dress. Oh how I yearned it! The frills, the colour, the heels, the whole do! If I can remember it so well to this day, it must have had some impact right? I also remember promising myself that one day when I start earning I will buy such a dress for myself. Umm. Yeah. It's a good thing it's not on paper.

2. Madhuri Dixit in Khalnayak:

OK stop laughing. This has nothing to do with the song. Seriously. Stop. This was lehenga-choli at it's best! I did own a very typical Rajasthani lehenga-choli set but for obvious reasons it was not even close to the one shown above. *Sulks*. Backless back, shells hanging, mirror embellishments, white bangle thingies upto the biceps as accessories - loved it all! Yes, the stomach baring would have been a bit too much but hey, such wishes aren't meant to be practical, are they?

3. The long frocks:


They say the 90s was the worst phase of Bollywood. All the good singers were dying or dead, the good actors were getting too old, there were too many horribly done south indian remakes and let's not even go near the so called fashion sense in the movies back then. But hey, I liked it. For all you know the things that we wear today will be the object of ridicule tomorrow. That's how it works. So back then, the puffy sleeves, high waist jeans, the leggings with long T shirts and of course the long frocks were the rage. My favourite happens to be the one Madhuri Dixit wears in HAHK. A close second is Juhi Chawla's in Hum Hain Rahi Pyaar Ke. Atrocious, I know.

I am trying to think which movies/trends/dresses interest me now. But I just can't seem to put my finger on it. I guess nostalgia is the best reminder.

Preview

The problem with taking a break is getting back to the routine after the break. Hi, I am Captain Obvious. The break that I refer to is the break I took from blogging. I didn't even realise that the break became the routine. I have no one to blame, no excuses to give. It took a backseat because I let it.

This isn't a grand "Hey kids, look who's back!" blog. This is just me, rambling on as usual. Because you know what, that's what it was to me. Before life caught up and changed my world in a million little ways. But I want to write again. I wrote before blogging became THE THING and now I want to write much after blogging isn't THE THING. It's much more fun this way.

You write, people read if they are interested, most of them ignore it, some leave a comment or two, you write again. No one wins, no one loses. There are no comment wars, there is no one upmanship. It isn't something you do to put on your profile, it isn't something you do to get those hits, to go up on Google's search index, to be featured in some lame column of a dying newspaper trying hard to keep up with the drastic changes in technology and lifestyle.

This is me, blogging once again. And boy, it feels good! Also, yay! on my 90th post. :)

P.S.: Thanks to my current joblessness, I'm pretty sure I can keep up this break-from-the-routine-that-was-meant-to-be-a-break for some time at least. Let's hope so.

Of pensive babies and mickey mouse

I have no freaking clue why people here in HK are so freaking OBSESSED with Mickey Mouse. Yes, they don't just like that silly cartoon character, they obsess over it. Mickey Mouse is on bags, tshirts, caps, suitcases, plates, spoons, u name it, and they will have Mickey Mouse over it. WHY? As I said, no freaking clue. Sure, there is a Disney Land here, but the merchandise I am talking about isn't even "official". Even 50+ yr old women wear it on their clothes. Madness I tell you!

There are two things very unique here - dogs and babies. I have put these two in the order of my liking.

Dogs: It may not apply to all localities but where I live, you can find dogs of all sizes, shapes, colours and softness. They love dogs as much(if not more) as their kids. They carry them around like babies, run with them, clothe them in weird attire and generally fuss over them. How is that different from pet owners around the world? Here, they prefer dogs of smaller stature so that they can carry them around in bags. You see a lady with an open handbag and you know that there is a living thing inside. Sure enough, it pops its head out and looks at you like you are the one in a weird mode of transportation.

They also train their dogs to perfection. Sometimes when the dog forgets its "etiquette's" and barks at you, the owner will apologise like it was the greatest sin ever committed. It's a treat to watch these little creatures and their mannerisms. I would absolutely love to own one (not just any one of them, I have my sight and heart set on a particular one - my Takiya). Sigh.

Then there are the babies. What is the deal with them here! You see a baby and your first expectation is for it to start bawling in a while. I mean come on, they are babies, that's what they are supposed to do. Hungry-> cry -> full -> poop -> cry -> thirsty ->cry ->full -> pee ->cry. It is a vicious cycle of needs and crying. But not here. First of all the babies here look freakishly pensive. They look like there is a lot on their mind; always in deep thought, as if solving the deep mysteries that have troubled mankind since the dawn of civilization. Then there is the fact that they don't cry. EVER. You see umpteen number of women with strollers. But you never see a woman with a baby that is crying. The baby just sits there. Still. Silent. Not crying. Blinking. Staring. F.R.E.A.K.Y!

How do they even do it? Is there a top secret govt. organisation behind it? Are there some special words uttered during childbirth that takes away the baby's..umm.."crying mojo"? I personally think that it's the mom. Who would not be scared of that angry Grudge like look? *Shudder*

Bangalore to Hong Kong!

No prizes for guessing what this post is about. There are so many things I want to share about this place that my head was bursting with observations and comments. So I'll just get down to it directly, no fancy buildups, no hows and whys.

• What are the chances of meeting two people you know in the international airport, where being your first international trip you have landed way too early and have more than 3 hours to kill? And that too one being related to you! Well not too high, let me tell you that. But that is exactly what happened with me.
  
• I did embarrass myself at a couple of counters but that's a different story altogether.
• The journey was uneventful, and the air hostesses - rude. I guess they know that it's the only direct flight and hence you don't have much of a choice.
• The flight was late and I just remember drifting in and out of sleep, only to eat and go direct back to sleep. By the way, whoever came up with the idea of playing "What's your Rashee?" as in flight entertainment, thank you! Works better than a warm glass of milk, instant peaceful slumber guaranteed!
• This place defines "bustling"! You see people everywhere, everyone looks important, busy and like they have something really big to do and someplace very urgent to be. It has such a high energy that you wonder if you can keep up. My first weekend was pretty disorienting actually!
• Customer service actually has a meaning here. They look like they want to serve you well.
• Language problem - BIG problem. Most of them struggle with framing simple English sentences and when they actually do, their accents make it even more difficult for me to grasp what they are saying. Lesson learnt - use keywords, speak slower than usual, pay attention.
• Gotta love the public transportation. You can get from anywhere to anywhere by three very convenient and simple means- trams, buses and trains(all A/C, of course). If you don't mentally convert the rates to INR then they work out really cheap too!
  
• The clothes! How can I not mention that! I kid you not, no two women on the street wear the same clothes. Forget same, they are barely similar. I don't know whether the reason behind this is the abundant choices or just the desire to stand out, but it works!
• The shoes! Yes, this post is getting very girly and what not but I cannot help it. Nowadays when I walk, I don't even look up. Girls/women here wear such pretty and funky footwear that it is difficult to focus elsewhere. Sure, given a choice I probably wouldn't even have the guts to try out these styles but that's also a point I want to make. Anything they wear, they look like they own the look and at total ease with themselves.
• The men aren't too good looking. I prefer our Indian men anyday! It's been six days since I landed here and I could spot just one fairly good looking guy.
• Food is a bit of a problem for a vegetarian like me but since I have "my people" already here since the past couple of years, I know where to look and what to avoid. In short, I am well fed.

I have loads to add but not right now. Work beckons.

P.S.: I didn't even know why today i.e. July 1st is a holiday here. Turns out some political thingy. Oh well *shrugs*

The year of change

Remember when I told you that I don't like change? Well, that itself, has changed. I am looking for a lot of changes this year. Maybe it just the monotony that is life right now, I don't know. It's just that the routine gets really boring after a while.

I have started out with the way I look. Now that, has undergone a major change! Bye bye wavy, frizzy hair, hello straight and smooth hair! I had been contemplating this decision for I don't know how many months/years now. The only thing that was stopping me was, well, the fear of change. All that talk about "they treat the hair with chemicals" was just eyewash. I was scared of looking so different. What changed my mind? I can't say. It wasn't a resolution, oh no no, I don't believe in that. I guess I finally found my backbone. I didn't even "warn" people at home. It was more or less a spontaneous decision(barring the fact that I had been thinking about it since forever). How do I feel about it now?

My hair actually blows beautifully in the wind now. No, seriously. You see those shampoo ads and you grunt, thinking to yourself "yeah right, nobody can have that kind of hair". Well, you can, after a lot of treatment, of course. Earlier, it used to take dollops of conditioner followed by the hair serum to make my hair remotely resemble a human being's. I used to dread dry and breezy weather. Now, let it blow. See if I care.

It's tangle free! No more struggling with the hair brush, going in slow strokes to make sure I don't pull out the wild strands also known as my hair. It's like every strand has a snooty life of its own. Each strand exists as an individual, refusing to get entangled in the messy life of others but willing to co exist peacefully. Just perfect.

All those Hindi songs about "sunhari zulfein" and "latein" and what not make sense now. Heck, forget a guy wanting to run his fingers through my hair, I myself can't get enough of it! So many times I have to remind myself that it might seem a little weird for others to see me obsessing over it. But I can't help it, it's so soft! Now I know why girls with naturally beautiful hair keep adjusting their hair by running their fingers through it time and again. It's not "attitude", it's just reflex action, they just want to make sure their prized possession is still safe. And by the way, girls with naturally beautiful and straight hair, the next time you tell me you would rather have curly hair, I will hit you.

Of course this drastic change in look got me different opinions and views. Some love it, others tell me I looked better with my natural hair. The best reactions were in the first week, the look of shock on everyone's face. And of course, my melodramatic mother wins the contest with her words - "you don't look like my daughter anymore". Right.

But one thing's for sure. Even now when I look in the mirror first time every morning, I don't recognise the person staring back at me. But in more ways than one, I like that. Sure, "permanent" as it may be, my naturally out of control hair will grow back soon, but for the time being, let me be "that chick with straight hair".

Happy New Decade

Yeah I thought I'll give it a snazzy little subject, something different, something unique, but when simple words can convey it, why go for any complicated ones, right? So the new year is upon us and as is the new decade. Bear with me while I go down the memory lane, getting all nostalgic.

The decade of the single remote control:
Ah, simpler times. One remote control, one purpose, controlling the TV. Do you want to change the channel? Well, grab *the* remote? Volume giving you problems? Where did you put *the* remote? Not anymore.

A: "Hey I put the DVD in. How do I switch the player on?"
B: "Use that black remote and switch the player on"
A: "There are two black ones, which one are you talking about?"
B: "Not the thin black one, that's the one for the cable"
A: "Oh ok. The fat one. Done, but nothing is coming on the screen."
B: "Well that's because you didn't switch the TV on."
A: "How do I do that?"
B: "Use the third remote control, the grey one."
A: "You know what, forget the movie. It probably isn't that good anyway."

When the watch wasn't just another accessory:

I can see you smile and nod your head. Remember all those exam days? Right from school till college. Other than the pens/pencils(not always as important) and hall ticket, the most important thing to carry used to be the watch. If it were the "normal" ones, you would pull that little lever out and sync it with someone else, to make sure it was showing the right time. If it was the digital watch(and I am sure you were extremely proud of it, you show off) you would create all those beeping noises, initially to figure out how the hell do you shift to the time setting mode and then eventually set the right time. Not anymore. You feel lost without your cell phone. That one device rules your life, but more on that later. Wearing a watch is now only for style statement.

Mobile landing:

As I said earlier, this one device rules our lives now. Alarm clock - cellphone, remembering events like birthdays and anniversaries - cellphone (mine is cruel, it seems to discriminate against certain people), clock - cellphone, camera - cellphone, music - cellphone, heck even internet surfing - cellphone. I am sure I have forgotten a million other uses, but you catch my drift. But one thing I totally blame the cellphone for is people turning unpunctual. Earlier with just landlines (fixed phone lines) the element of doubt and uncertainty would ensure that if people promised they would be someplace at some time, they would be there either early or on time. But now since you can call up people and lie to them that you are stuck in traffic (*scowl*), you take them for granted and ask them to wait a little more. Seriously people, if you have lived in the same city for more than a year, you know the "traffic", so plan for it accordingly, will you.

Dial up, up and away:

The great Internet revolution of the two oh oh ohhhhhhs. From just starting out with a Yahoo! email ID and being barely able to move the mouse, to being an internet addict, I myself have come a long way. Ok, this wasn't exactly in the last decade but I will narrate this incident nonetheless. My elder brother's friend had called up home(on the landline, as was the norm then) and I happened to pick the phone up. He gave me his email ID to pass on to my brother. Guess how I noted it down - I actually spelt the "_". Yes, my note read "name underscore name". Naive old me. And who can forget the dial up connection days! Set up the connection and wait. The sounds, the noises, oh the suspense! Then enter the URL and again, wait. Meanwhile go fix a snack or finish some other errand and by the time you are back, the page has loaded! If someone would have told you that in the future you could download movies over the internet, wouldn't that have been the joke of the year(or decade?). Not to mention actually watching someone speak in another country, miles away from you, in real time(video chat, if you didn't quite get that)! Oh the power of technology.

The great transition:

More than anything I will remember the last decade for being the one where I made the transition from being a student to a working professional. How much I work or how professional I am may be subject to debates but that isn't the point right now. I am sure it holds good for all of you because come on, do you really expect me to believe that people who started working in the 1990s actually read my blogs? What a shift it was, what a change in lifestyle. And not to mention, what a change in shape. Show me one person who looks exactly as they were in their student days (weight and shape wise) and I will eat my tongue. Fatsos(relatively speaking of course), all of you. But financial independence, what a high, no? It doesn't matter how much you earn, the mere fact that you don't have to ask someone for money feels so good. That reminds me. Those of you who went back to school, to pursue higher studies, how in the world do you manage? It's like a lion turning vegetarian.

To sum it up, no matter what articles on the net would have you believe, the last decade was not the worst decade in the last century. Sure there have been some tragedies but which decade didn't have their share? I don't know about you but I am pretty excited about the next ten years. Bring it on!

PS: Just saw an ad by a leading mobile service provider asking people to donate old mobile phones to old age homes. Whatever happened to the days of the blankets?

Wish you all a beautiful year ahead and a fantabulous decade to come!

Whistle Blower

I love train journeys. I can't say it enough and I can't get enough of them. So what if we still have only holes in the floors of our toilets or still have to rely on metal chains to secure our luggage. Train journeys are fun. And relaxing. And oh so comfortable! Unlike a bus journey, you don't have to worry about when the next pee stop will be and whether you will have to look for a thick bush or a big tree. Unlike a plane journey, you don't have to get to the place at some god forsaken hour and some hundreds of god forsaken hours before the scheduled departure. Nor worry about not looking good for the journey, or worse still wonder which one of your co passengers is carrying that suspicious looking piece of luggage.

No Sirre Bob. You get to the station either on time or later, because not in the history of Indian Railways has any train come before time. If it is late, you look at your fellow passengers, give that all knowing shake of head and comment about the state of Indian railways. Following which, you buy a book or magazine, plonk yourself on a small piece of ledge or bench, asking the people to skooch over and make a little place, while giving them the half apologetic, half "come-on-lets-be-nice-now" look. You may start reading you material but you still look around, to look out for any interesting specimens, and of course to make sure every five minutes that your luggage, which is at your feet, is still there and very much safe.

Since it is a place always bustling with people, your eyes don't linger long enough. Occasionally you catch someone else doing the same. You look away, you don't maintain eye contact for long. You don't want to discover acquaintances, you don't want to strike a conversation. You just want to bide your time till the train comes. Beggars approach you, you pretend to not notice them. They look at you, they stay for a while, they judge you. If you look easy, they don't move away till they see you dig into your purse/wallet for that coin. If you don't, they move to the next person. If the train is really late, you catch the same beggars again and again. The same rounds, the same expression, the same tone, the same perseverance.

You see someone interesting. A kid, a family, a lady, a man, a bunch of students, a group of nuns, a gang of what looks like ruffians. You look at them in between flipping pages of your reading material. You don't want to alarm them, make them feel conscious, break their rhythm, draw their attention to you. You wonder if they are locals or tourists. You try to decide based on their clothing and mannerisms. You wonder if they are boarding the same train, if they will be your companions for the next few hours. You wish they are, you wish they aren't.

There is a rustle on the platform, a collective movement. Someone heard a whistle, someone saw a train approaching. The announcements are read out over the microphone in the same monotone. You can barely catch it, except if you hear hard enough, the train number and/or the train name. All you rely on are the porters, who are the best source of information. They'll tell you which train is late before even the enquiry section comes to know of it. They'll even tell you why, if you ask them nice enough and if they are bored enough. Then they walk away. They have to be someplace, they have to make a living.

The train finally arrives. The whole platform is now alive. You see the mad rush for the doors of the general compartment. You let out a silent shudder, thanking your stars that you don't have to be a part of it. The snob in you wonders why they can't just be civil. The rest of you feels ashamed at that thought. You walk up to your bogie and see that the scene isn't too different here. The only difference is in the attire. People are still crowding around the door, not even letting the ones inside alight. You wait for it to clear.

You get inside, not even giving a second look to the station or platform. You are more bothered about finding your seat, securing your luggage and getting comfortable. Your journey has just begun.