Valentine's Day is just around the corner. Personally, I don't believe in the whole concept and know it very well for what it is-one of the most clever and well thought of marketing strategies. Yet, I also believe in personal freedom. Don't worry, this isn't one of the countless tirades against the cowardly man(?) and his burden on this earth goons. What this is, is a prediction of the things to come:
Children's Day: Even though this day is celebrated as a tribute to the first Prime Minister of India, it is just a matter of time before they come up with a theory that since he was born in the times of the British, his birthday is a western concept. So any kids found roaming on the streets that day will be forced to join the closest school. It does not matter if the kids already attend one, and in any case if they are from a particular school, what were they doing outside, anyway? On second thoughts, this isn't a bad idea, if such a situation arises, tons of underprivileged kids might finally have that shot at education.
Mother's Day, Father's Day, Parents' Day: "Why do we need special days to appreciate our parents? This is against Indian culture!" Yes, who decides which day is to celebrated as parents' day? I mean, if you are so keen, go look up which day Shravana Kumar was born and we shall all celebrate it by carrying our parents on weighing balances! So any adults or kids found with a woman or man who is older than them will have to be forcefully adopted by the same. There is no other way to tackle this menace. If you are cheap enough to respect elders other than your parents, you deserve to be punished through adoption!
Teacher's Day: Again, as of now this day is celebrated in India as a remembrance to the first Vice President of India. But if you missed the logic in Children's Day, let me remind you, he was born during the British rule! To add to it, he (to quote Wiki) "he introduced Western idealism into Indian philosophy". Oh my God, people! Do you see what they are upto? They did this to us and we did not even realise it! Down with the Western idealism(whatever that is supposed to mean)! Any student found giving flowers, cards will have to pay for their actions by taking an impromptu test and any function felicitating teachers shall be broken entry into!
New Year's Day: January 1st is celebrated the world over as New Year's day. It is the first day of the Gregorian calendar. Who is this fellow Gregory? We don't know any Gregory! Why should he be the one who dictates when the new year begins? Unless it is some Giridhari who has taken on this Western name, we will not adhere to it! Despite the fact that every state in India has its own beliefs, rituals and its own version of the new year, we will not bow down to Western pressures and participate in harmless revelry! Mobs will be mobilised to crack down on all new year celebrations on Jan 1 and everyone will be made to change the dates on their mobiles phones, computers and any other device which bears the new year in their systems.
Happy Valentine's Day India.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Psychobabble
Have you seen Kaho Na Pyaar Hai? The scene where the heroine has a conversation with the dead hero's lookalike which reminds her of him. Or the scene where the duplicate interacts with the dead hero's kid brother and the kid is reminded of the real deal. Well, freakishly, these things are happening to me. OK, maybe not exactly. I don't "see dead people". It's just that some strangers inadverdently remind me of certain other people I know.
The most unnerving experience of them all had to be the one during my bus journey home. The bus is about to leave the depot and is at the gate when the moderator(?) asks the driver to stop and a girl gets in. No, violins don't play in the background, she isn't wearing a chiffon saree, the pallu of which blows in the wind and there is most definitely no perfect breeze blowing her hair. She's probably a regular looking girl. I say probably because that was the last thing on my mind, to check out a girl. As my luck would have it, she lands up in the seat next to me, much to my chagrin(I like to occupy a two seater by myself. Who doesn't?).
The bus starts moving again and she takes out her phone. The next few words of hers makes me freeze in my seat. Not only does she sound exactly like a friend but she uses the exact same words of greeting on the phone. Before you jump the gun, it isn't a plain "Hi" or "Hello". I have a mental argument with myself, contemplating if it's possible that it is indeed my friend sitting next to me. I steal glances of her face and of course, it is not her. Unaware of the battle that my logic is waging with my mind, she continues to speak on the phone. I swear I would have been so relieved had it been a prank played by a common friend or even by some lame television channel. But it wasn't to be.
This wasn't a one off case. There have been others. My team mate in my new team reminds me of a friend - but his isn't a case of exact replication. Just the mannerisms, maybe the way of talking. Just the overall vibes. Needless to say, I am most comfortable around him and started acting and talking freely to him when I was barely introduced to him!
Then there's the duplicate mom in aerobics class. This lady just warms my heart. Everytime I see her, I remember my mother. For the record, they don't resemble each other at all. And this isn't an old woman I am talking about. She may be 4 years older than me, at max. Yet, everytime I see her, I end up smiling out of a sense of familiarity. Maybe it's something in her eyes. She smiles back too, by the way, and seems to be a really nice woman.
Now for some self psychoanalysis: I think I have started to generalize and categorize people. I judge them, that is a fact which is known to all. But now, my brain has started putting all the people I know in separate little mind containers, with each having its set of characteristics and mannerisms, broadly. So the first time I meet someone, to put me at ease, I sub consciously put that person in one of the existing containers. It saves me the trouble of creating new ones, saves me the anxiety of reacting to "new" people and most definitely saves me the time to familiarise with them. In the process though, it is messing with my mind. I don't like it.
The most unnerving experience of them all had to be the one during my bus journey home. The bus is about to leave the depot and is at the gate when the moderator(?) asks the driver to stop and a girl gets in. No, violins don't play in the background, she isn't wearing a chiffon saree, the pallu of which blows in the wind and there is most definitely no perfect breeze blowing her hair. She's probably a regular looking girl. I say probably because that was the last thing on my mind, to check out a girl. As my luck would have it, she lands up in the seat next to me, much to my chagrin(I like to occupy a two seater by myself. Who doesn't?).
The bus starts moving again and she takes out her phone. The next few words of hers makes me freeze in my seat. Not only does she sound exactly like a friend but she uses the exact same words of greeting on the phone. Before you jump the gun, it isn't a plain "Hi" or "Hello". I have a mental argument with myself, contemplating if it's possible that it is indeed my friend sitting next to me. I steal glances of her face and of course, it is not her. Unaware of the battle that my logic is waging with my mind, she continues to speak on the phone. I swear I would have been so relieved had it been a prank played by a common friend or even by some lame television channel. But it wasn't to be.
This wasn't a one off case. There have been others. My team mate in my new team reminds me of a friend - but his isn't a case of exact replication. Just the mannerisms, maybe the way of talking. Just the overall vibes. Needless to say, I am most comfortable around him and started acting and talking freely to him when I was barely introduced to him!
Then there's the duplicate mom in aerobics class. This lady just warms my heart. Everytime I see her, I remember my mother. For the record, they don't resemble each other at all. And this isn't an old woman I am talking about. She may be 4 years older than me, at max. Yet, everytime I see her, I end up smiling out of a sense of familiarity. Maybe it's something in her eyes. She smiles back too, by the way, and seems to be a really nice woman.
Now for some self psychoanalysis: I think I have started to generalize and categorize people. I judge them, that is a fact which is known to all. But now, my brain has started putting all the people I know in separate little mind containers, with each having its set of characteristics and mannerisms, broadly. So the first time I meet someone, to put me at ease, I sub consciously put that person in one of the existing containers. It saves me the trouble of creating new ones, saves me the anxiety of reacting to "new" people and most definitely saves me the time to familiarise with them. In the process though, it is messing with my mind. I don't like it.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Bucket List
Everyone seems to be making one. What is a bucket list? Well, it's a list of things that you want to do before you kick the bucket. My bucket list here is different. Here's a list of impossible things that I want to achieve before the grim reaper claims this grin reaper:
1. Develop a thick, genuine British accent: How is it impossible? You seem to have missed out the word "genuine". Sure, you can easily develop a thick accent if you practice hard enough and maybe even hire a tutor for it. But it will only make you sound like Shoaib Akhtar. He cannot tell the difference between "balls to" and "balls of" but his accent will be thicker than a gentleman from Yorkshire. That is not what I desire. If an English accent isn't possible, give me a Scottish one. Maybe Sean Connery and I can hit if off then. Along with Mike Myers, of course.
2. Be a hot, Latino chiquita: My general knowledge isn't legendary per se but even I know that just like we don't have elephants, maharajas, snake charmers and the Taj Mahal at every nook and corner of India, each Latino woman is not inherently hot. But I would like to be. I would like to have that pout, with full lips and that brilliant sway which would weaken the stomach of many a strong man. Yes, I would like to be the stereotype. Not to forget, the layered full length dress which would obviously, make me an excellent dancer too. One two cha cha cha
3. Have a successful solo singing performance: I usually tell people that my passion is dancing. It's true to an extent but it is also so because I know I don't suck at it. That guarantees me against snide remarks like "for someone who seems to love dancing so much, you aren't so good at it". Secretly, I worship singers. They come second only to the music composers. I just don't get it, how the hell does one compose a tune, forget a full length song! Back to the point, the third wish in my bucket list is to one day be a part of a concert, where people buy exorbitantly priced tickets to listen to me sing and actually clap at the end of it. I wouldn't mind an "encore" or standing ovation too.
4. Be a geek: This might confuse you and I wouldn't blame you. Who, in their right mind, would want to be a geek? Me. By a geek, I don't mean someone who doesn't have a life and is stuck to their system 24x7. That is the most common yet most stereotyped definition of geeks, with respect to software engineers or people related to this industry. My definition of geek is slightly different. A geek to me is one who knows the technicalities of whatever he/she dabbles in, in and out. You ask one single question, and she comes up with various possible explanations. I can never be like that. I get bored very fast and any process that goes on for too long in my life, bores me to death. So I find it remarkable that people can actually stick to a field and become renowned experts in it. Someday, I would like people to hold me in similar awe.
5. Be a child prodigy: While I am totally against the exploitation of children by parents, I am ready to make an exception, if it were to be me. Right from Michael Jackson to even our now bald, now dancing Britney Spears to the very talented-who-now-sings-only-irritating-songs Sunidhi Chauhan, child prodigies are way too cool. Of course, nowadays you cannot tell an authentic one to a fabricated one, thanks to the plethora of reality shows now on air. A little digression from the topic for a special note to the makers of these shows-shoving a script down a child's throat for cheap entertainment is so not done. Back to the point, I wouldn't mind if someone were to go back in time, perform a miracle and turn me into one. Sure, I wouldn't have too many friends and would probably not finish my studies properly, but hey, I would have some talent!
Summing up my short but impossible list, I would like to be a Latino child with thick British accent who sings exceptionally well. If it's OK with everyone, can I slip in "the first woman to go out into space" too?
1. Develop a thick, genuine British accent: How is it impossible? You seem to have missed out the word "genuine". Sure, you can easily develop a thick accent if you practice hard enough and maybe even hire a tutor for it. But it will only make you sound like Shoaib Akhtar. He cannot tell the difference between "balls to" and "balls of" but his accent will be thicker than a gentleman from Yorkshire. That is not what I desire. If an English accent isn't possible, give me a Scottish one. Maybe Sean Connery and I can hit if off then. Along with Mike Myers, of course.
2. Be a hot, Latino chiquita: My general knowledge isn't legendary per se but even I know that just like we don't have elephants, maharajas, snake charmers and the Taj Mahal at every nook and corner of India, each Latino woman is not inherently hot. But I would like to be. I would like to have that pout, with full lips and that brilliant sway which would weaken the stomach of many a strong man. Yes, I would like to be the stereotype. Not to forget, the layered full length dress which would obviously, make me an excellent dancer too. One two cha cha cha
3. Have a successful solo singing performance: I usually tell people that my passion is dancing. It's true to an extent but it is also so because I know I don't suck at it. That guarantees me against snide remarks like "for someone who seems to love dancing so much, you aren't so good at it". Secretly, I worship singers. They come second only to the music composers. I just don't get it, how the hell does one compose a tune, forget a full length song! Back to the point, the third wish in my bucket list is to one day be a part of a concert, where people buy exorbitantly priced tickets to listen to me sing and actually clap at the end of it. I wouldn't mind an "encore" or standing ovation too.
4. Be a geek: This might confuse you and I wouldn't blame you. Who, in their right mind, would want to be a geek? Me. By a geek, I don't mean someone who doesn't have a life and is stuck to their system 24x7. That is the most common yet most stereotyped definition of geeks, with respect to software engineers or people related to this industry. My definition of geek is slightly different. A geek to me is one who knows the technicalities of whatever he/she dabbles in, in and out. You ask one single question, and she comes up with various possible explanations. I can never be like that. I get bored very fast and any process that goes on for too long in my life, bores me to death. So I find it remarkable that people can actually stick to a field and become renowned experts in it. Someday, I would like people to hold me in similar awe.
5. Be a child prodigy: While I am totally against the exploitation of children by parents, I am ready to make an exception, if it were to be me. Right from Michael Jackson to even our now bald, now dancing Britney Spears to the very talented-who-now-sings-only-irritating-songs Sunidhi Chauhan, child prodigies are way too cool. Of course, nowadays you cannot tell an authentic one to a fabricated one, thanks to the plethora of reality shows now on air. A little digression from the topic for a special note to the makers of these shows-shoving a script down a child's throat for cheap entertainment is so not done. Back to the point, I wouldn't mind if someone were to go back in time, perform a miracle and turn me into one. Sure, I wouldn't have too many friends and would probably not finish my studies properly, but hey, I would have some talent!
Summing up my short but impossible list, I would like to be a Latino child with thick British accent who sings exceptionally well. If it's OK with everyone, can I slip in "the first woman to go out into space" too?
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Dye me black
For starters, I still haven't spotted my first gray hair as yet. It's a little surprising, given the fact that almost every one I know has had at least one, for sometime now. I am not referring to people above thirty, I am talking about people my age. The reasons might be plenty - pollution, bad diet, genes, and most importantly, stress. So I think that's where I score over the others.
How does it feel when you spot you first gray hair? Do you go ballistic, crying out in agony "Why me God, why meeeeeeeeeeeeee"? Or do you just perform a quick mental calculation, taking into account the cost of hair dye into your monthly expenditure?
Hair dye. Of all the funny inventions that man can be accused of coming up with, this one sits right up there on top. Who thought of it? What was the thought process that was going on? "Hmm..if I just paint my hair, no one will notice how old I am!"? Personally, I feel hair dying is justified when you look your age, or rather, when you can carry it off. So that would be your 30's and perhaps even 40's, if you are watching what you eat and are blessed with a youthful look.
But let's face it, once you hit the 50's and your kids are through college and possibly working, what is that bottle of black hair dye still doing in your bathroom closet? You expect people to look at you and go "oh poor thing, he/she has black hair but terribly wrinkled skin. Must be an affliction which affects the terribly young"?
Before you ask me, let me tell you myself, my parents also belong to this category. Much to my chagrin, they paint their hair religiously every time the grays make an appearance. I have tried my best to convince my mother to try the Indira Gandhi look, if not the Nafisa Ali look and my father to go for the Richard Gere look, if not the S M Krishna one. I am not a kid anymore and I don't expect my parents to look like a kid's parents, either. But of course, they don't listen to me so I have given up. The only thing I can do is to resolve that when it's my turn, I'll go natural.
How does it feel when you spot you first gray hair? Do you go ballistic, crying out in agony "Why me God, why meeeeeeeeeeeeee"? Or do you just perform a quick mental calculation, taking into account the cost of hair dye into your monthly expenditure?
Hair dye. Of all the funny inventions that man can be accused of coming up with, this one sits right up there on top. Who thought of it? What was the thought process that was going on? "Hmm..if I just paint my hair, no one will notice how old I am!"? Personally, I feel hair dying is justified when you look your age, or rather, when you can carry it off. So that would be your 30's and perhaps even 40's, if you are watching what you eat and are blessed with a youthful look.
But let's face it, once you hit the 50's and your kids are through college and possibly working, what is that bottle of black hair dye still doing in your bathroom closet? You expect people to look at you and go "oh poor thing, he/she has black hair but terribly wrinkled skin. Must be an affliction which affects the terribly young"?
Before you ask me, let me tell you myself, my parents also belong to this category. Much to my chagrin, they paint their hair religiously every time the grays make an appearance. I have tried my best to convince my mother to try the Indira Gandhi look, if not the Nafisa Ali look and my father to go for the Richard Gere look, if not the S M Krishna one. I am not a kid anymore and I don't expect my parents to look like a kid's parents, either. But of course, they don't listen to me so I have given up. The only thing I can do is to resolve that when it's my turn, I'll go natural.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Aerobics!
Here is the much anticipated, much awaited blog on my current pastime-passion-obsession(?). Aerobics!
Let me address the myths and the actual truths behind them:
Myth: Aerobics instructors are lean, mean, fighting machines, not to mention - hot!
Truth: Let me tell you about my instructor. A lady(first disappointment) of around *beep* years, where *beep* is most definitely not less than 28. Lean? No. Mean? Oh yes, more on that later. Fighting machine? Hmm..depends on your definition but I wouldn't like to be involved in a fight with her, for sure. She isn't fat per se, but when she wears those tight track pants, you wish she would do something about her tyres first, or at least go for the more flattering, loose pairs.
Myth: The class consists of good looking people, wearing tight, shiny spandex costumes.
Truth: You've got to be stupid if you believe this. Why would people join such a torturesome form of exercise if they were happy with the way they look? And coming to the costumes, well, they sometimes are just that. This message is to all those women who wear short tops that stopped fitting them five years ago - looking at your bulge spilling out unceremoniously makes me sick. Please think about the others in your class, the ones who are not in love with you, as opposed to you. More often than not, it's the I-know-I-am-hot crowd who cannot get used to the fact that age is taking it's toll, slowly but surely. Gravity sucks, get used to it. Nothing about the handful of men who are there because they dress appropriately. They realise it's a form of exercise and not a fashion show.
Myth: Adrenaline makes you feel happier or at least gives you a good rush
Truth: OK, I am not going to refute this established fact. Though, one look/meeting with my instructor and you wonder if adrenaline is an evil hormone, which makes you, well, evil! Her method of correcting anyone who commits the horrendous mistake of having the wrong posture/stance while exercising - a tight whack. No, I am not kidding and neither do I attend a course for toddlers. I am talking about a class of grown ups, minimum age 21 and a small-ish woman who is stricter than Hitler's mother(I have no clue how strict she was, but with a son like that, she must have been?). Thank heavens for small mercies that she never uses props like dumbells/exercise balls or the water canister to "mend our ways". Her hand is good enough. A whack, on that part which is in the wrong position - foot, arm, leg, hand, back, shoulder, anything. So in addition to concentrating on not falling, we have to keep an eye out for the bolt from blue.
Myth: Aerobics is easy-schmeasy.
Truth: Come to my class. You do it, while I stand back and laugh. One wrong step and you can bid goodbye to walking for the next few days at least. There are plenty of opportunities to screw up, very limited to get it right. Since it's a group activity, your success also depends on your neighbour's. You go too fast, you collide into them, with a result that varies from a slight bump to a broken nose. You go too slow, well, they collide with you, with similar results ! So what's the middle path? You try to surround yourself with the veterans. Otherwise, you have four noobs around you(front, back, left, right), with each apparently conspiring to send you to the closest hospital. Oh and never go near the burly men. No offence to them, or you, if you are one of them, but those guys sweat buckets! Since no one has the time to stop and wipe it off, it falls on the smooth floor and guess what, it's you who steps on it and slips all the time.
Well then, this is it. There are more details to it like the common corridor between the men's and women's changing room, which has only the non good looking men in only towels walking around and the weirdo who attends the class, who does not leave any opportunity to "help" the other men while stretching. But if I go on about them, this post will never end. So I end it by answering a question which I am pretty sure is on your mind - If I hate it so much, why do I go? Ans: Who said I hate it? I love each moment of it! :D
Let me address the myths and the actual truths behind them:
Myth: Aerobics instructors are lean, mean, fighting machines, not to mention - hot!
Truth: Let me tell you about my instructor. A lady(first disappointment) of around *beep* years, where *beep* is most definitely not less than 28. Lean? No. Mean? Oh yes, more on that later. Fighting machine? Hmm..depends on your definition but I wouldn't like to be involved in a fight with her, for sure. She isn't fat per se, but when she wears those tight track pants, you wish she would do something about her tyres first, or at least go for the more flattering, loose pairs.
Myth: The class consists of good looking people, wearing tight, shiny spandex costumes.
Truth: You've got to be stupid if you believe this. Why would people join such a torturesome form of exercise if they were happy with the way they look? And coming to the costumes, well, they sometimes are just that. This message is to all those women who wear short tops that stopped fitting them five years ago - looking at your bulge spilling out unceremoniously makes me sick. Please think about the others in your class, the ones who are not in love with you, as opposed to you. More often than not, it's the I-know-I-am-hot crowd who cannot get used to the fact that age is taking it's toll, slowly but surely. Gravity sucks, get used to it. Nothing about the handful of men who are there because they dress appropriately. They realise it's a form of exercise and not a fashion show.
Myth: Adrenaline makes you feel happier or at least gives you a good rush
Truth: OK, I am not going to refute this established fact. Though, one look/meeting with my instructor and you wonder if adrenaline is an evil hormone, which makes you, well, evil! Her method of correcting anyone who commits the horrendous mistake of having the wrong posture/stance while exercising - a tight whack. No, I am not kidding and neither do I attend a course for toddlers. I am talking about a class of grown ups, minimum age 21 and a small-ish woman who is stricter than Hitler's mother(I have no clue how strict she was, but with a son like that, she must have been?). Thank heavens for small mercies that she never uses props like dumbells/exercise balls or the water canister to "mend our ways". Her hand is good enough. A whack, on that part which is in the wrong position - foot, arm, leg, hand, back, shoulder, anything. So in addition to concentrating on not falling, we have to keep an eye out for the bolt from blue.
Myth: Aerobics is easy-schmeasy.
Truth: Come to my class. You do it, while I stand back and laugh. One wrong step and you can bid goodbye to walking for the next few days at least. There are plenty of opportunities to screw up, very limited to get it right. Since it's a group activity, your success also depends on your neighbour's. You go too fast, you collide into them, with a result that varies from a slight bump to a broken nose. You go too slow, well, they collide with you, with similar results ! So what's the middle path? You try to surround yourself with the veterans. Otherwise, you have four noobs around you(front, back, left, right), with each apparently conspiring to send you to the closest hospital. Oh and never go near the burly men. No offence to them, or you, if you are one of them, but those guys sweat buckets! Since no one has the time to stop and wipe it off, it falls on the smooth floor and guess what, it's you who steps on it and slips all the time.
Well then, this is it. There are more details to it like the common corridor between the men's and women's changing room, which has only the non good looking men in only towels walking around and the weirdo who attends the class, who does not leave any opportunity to "help" the other men while stretching. But if I go on about them, this post will never end. So I end it by answering a question which I am pretty sure is on your mind - If I hate it so much, why do I go? Ans: Who said I hate it? I love each moment of it! :D
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
New Year's Eve
To most of the people, it means welcoming the new year in style. Parties, dinners, get together, something, anything. Song, dance, drink, laugh and generally make merry. And yet, to some, it is totally different. No, don't worry, I am not going to talk about the downtrodden class and how miserable their lives are. Here are a few of the observations made on new year's eve, that I found amusing:
The chicken shops: I don't know what is the relation between chicken and new year! Every little shop selling meat is teeming with people! And when I say "little" I mean the ones titled KentAcky fried chicken. No kidding, every time I pass that sign, I chuckle.
The Bakeries: All the Iyengar bakeries, fake or genuine are making big business today. The name Iyengar bakery in itself is ironic because usually most of these bakeries serve delicacies with egg as an ingredient, which is not to be consumed by them. There are little extensions of the shop, covered by shamiana(tent) selling cakes in every imaginable colour. I don't mean to be condescending, but they really looked anything but edible! I think I even spotted a bright green one shaped like a guitar. Rock On? :)
The loners: Near every shop, or any other commercial establishment, there will be one guy, just this one guy. Either seated or leaning against a pole or a wall. Smoking or just doing nothing. Age no bar, class no bar. I spotted a kind of good looking guy and I also saw a guy who looked like the police department in 11 nations are looking for him. But the guy is there, without fail.
The funnily dressed: nah, this isn't going to be a tirade against the badly dressed or a lecture on fashion consciousness or dressing etiquette's. By "funnily dressed", I mean the ones who dress in a way that does not suit the occasion. Confused? Take the example of this family - mother, dressed in fake silk, adorned with jewels, daughter, pre teens, dressed in something bright and new, with an old scarf over the head. It's cold you see. The father takes the prize though. He is dressed in the Sabarimala pilgrim clothes, all black. Where are they heading to? The local mall, of course.
These are your normal people, trying to make a big day out of something, which actually does not bear too much significance in their mundane lives. But these are also the people, who make the most of it.
The chicken shops: I don't know what is the relation between chicken and new year! Every little shop selling meat is teeming with people! And when I say "little" I mean the ones titled KentAcky fried chicken. No kidding, every time I pass that sign, I chuckle.
The Bakeries: All the Iyengar bakeries, fake or genuine are making big business today. The name Iyengar bakery in itself is ironic because usually most of these bakeries serve delicacies with egg as an ingredient, which is not to be consumed by them. There are little extensions of the shop, covered by shamiana(tent) selling cakes in every imaginable colour. I don't mean to be condescending, but they really looked anything but edible! I think I even spotted a bright green one shaped like a guitar. Rock On? :)
The loners: Near every shop, or any other commercial establishment, there will be one guy, just this one guy. Either seated or leaning against a pole or a wall. Smoking or just doing nothing. Age no bar, class no bar. I spotted a kind of good looking guy and I also saw a guy who looked like the police department in 11 nations are looking for him. But the guy is there, without fail.
The funnily dressed: nah, this isn't going to be a tirade against the badly dressed or a lecture on fashion consciousness or dressing etiquette's. By "funnily dressed", I mean the ones who dress in a way that does not suit the occasion. Confused? Take the example of this family - mother, dressed in fake silk, adorned with jewels, daughter, pre teens, dressed in something bright and new, with an old scarf over the head. It's cold you see. The father takes the prize though. He is dressed in the Sabarimala pilgrim clothes, all black. Where are they heading to? The local mall, of course.
These are your normal people, trying to make a big day out of something, which actually does not bear too much significance in their mundane lives. But these are also the people, who make the most of it.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Astral Projections!
Even I don't know what the title means, I found the term being used by a blogger and just decided that I had to use it somewhere! But one thing I do know is, applying the general rules of etymology, the word is connected to astrology,stars, constellations, the whole deal. Which brings me to the point of this post.
Did you happen to catch the smiley? "The what?", you may ask and maybe rightly so. Well I won't go into the technicalities of it but a few days back Mars, Venus and our Moon decided to show off a little in the sky and went ahead and formed a smiley-the two planets being the eyes and our over glamourised satellite being the lips/grin/smile. I didn't even know about it till people told me. "look at the sky!" came one message.
This message came at a time when I was returning to my cubicle after my aerobics class. For those of you who haven't been through this torture session, let me tell you, it is, well, torturous! That day in particular I remember being really, and I mean, really exhausted after the workout (quick digression for mental note: dedicate a post to aerobics classes) and here I get a message asking me to move a part of my body. Making sure it wasn't sent by my sadistic instructor, I looked up. First, up ahead. Then, to the right. To the left. Nothing. The only part left to check was overhead and behind. Since I feel a little tipsy when I am tired, I was scared that I might trip over and fall if I try to do so while walking, so I decided to sneak a peek when I change the direction of my path. And then I looked.
No, this isn't the part where I go "it was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen". Yeah, it was nice, actually, it was pretty amusing. I am quite sure I stood there for a good two seconds extra, chuckling to myself, thinking how silly the sky looked. But I am the kind of person who gets amused by the weighing scale they use in the courier office, so I won't read too much into this experience. But it was better than the others:
The Meteor Shower: This topic makes my blood boil. Take a 13-14 year old girl, addiction to television, easily excitable and an overhyped phenomenon. What do you get? Major disappointment! I stayed up almost the whole night, during winter, craning my tender neck upwards towards east, west, north, south, every direction possible, hoping to catch "one of the most spectacular display of nature's fireworks" in the sky and what do I get? One shooting star, which, now that I think about it and analyse that situation, could have been a figment of my imagination or hallucination, owing to exhaustion! The next day the sheepish news reporters admit that it was more prominent and visible over certain areas of Taiwan and China. Well thank you 哑的 驴!
Solar Eclipse: Contrary to what they show in television series like Heroes, it doesn't envelope the whole sky and look like a beautiful diamond ring, straight out of Dubai's finest jewelry store! OK, it does happen, but only if you happen to live in Greenland or Alaska or the Moon! Other places, you get superstitious elders who ask you to bathe(or is it not bathe?) on that day, super excited adults dragging their kids to the local planetarium for the "once in a lifetime experience", weird glasses made of colored, transparent cellophane paper and contraptions which would make the cave man wonder if he committed a mistake by inventing the wheel. And of course the people from Doordarshan, who drone on in such a manner that it would put hardcore insomniacs to sleep! If they are to be believed, witnessing a partial (percentage ranging from 5-15, max. I think) solar eclipse is a greater achievement than Deve Gowda not sleeping in the parliament. Umm..kinda lost my train of thoughts there.
The point is, next time anyone gets all enthusiastic about any kind of event or phenomenon related to any heavnly body in the sky, I'll ask them to take a pic, maybe record a few words, take a video, and mail it to me.
Did you happen to catch the smiley? "The what?", you may ask and maybe rightly so. Well I won't go into the technicalities of it but a few days back Mars, Venus and our Moon decided to show off a little in the sky and went ahead and formed a smiley-the two planets being the eyes and our over glamourised satellite being the lips/grin/smile. I didn't even know about it till people told me. "look at the sky!" came one message.
This message came at a time when I was returning to my cubicle after my aerobics class. For those of you who haven't been through this torture session, let me tell you, it is, well, torturous! That day in particular I remember being really, and I mean, really exhausted after the workout (quick digression for mental note: dedicate a post to aerobics classes) and here I get a message asking me to move a part of my body. Making sure it wasn't sent by my sadistic instructor, I looked up. First, up ahead. Then, to the right. To the left. Nothing. The only part left to check was overhead and behind. Since I feel a little tipsy when I am tired, I was scared that I might trip over and fall if I try to do so while walking, so I decided to sneak a peek when I change the direction of my path. And then I looked.
No, this isn't the part where I go "it was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen". Yeah, it was nice, actually, it was pretty amusing. I am quite sure I stood there for a good two seconds extra, chuckling to myself, thinking how silly the sky looked. But I am the kind of person who gets amused by the weighing scale they use in the courier office, so I won't read too much into this experience. But it was better than the others:
The Meteor Shower: This topic makes my blood boil. Take a 13-14 year old girl, addiction to television, easily excitable and an overhyped phenomenon. What do you get? Major disappointment! I stayed up almost the whole night, during winter, craning my tender neck upwards towards east, west, north, south, every direction possible, hoping to catch "one of the most spectacular display of nature's fireworks" in the sky and what do I get? One shooting star, which, now that I think about it and analyse that situation, could have been a figment of my imagination or hallucination, owing to exhaustion! The next day the sheepish news reporters admit that it was more prominent and visible over certain areas of Taiwan and China. Well thank you 哑的 驴!
Solar Eclipse: Contrary to what they show in television series like Heroes, it doesn't envelope the whole sky and look like a beautiful diamond ring, straight out of Dubai's finest jewelry store! OK, it does happen, but only if you happen to live in Greenland or Alaska or the Moon! Other places, you get superstitious elders who ask you to bathe(or is it not bathe?) on that day, super excited adults dragging their kids to the local planetarium for the "once in a lifetime experience", weird glasses made of colored, transparent cellophane paper and contraptions which would make the cave man wonder if he committed a mistake by inventing the wheel. And of course the people from Doordarshan, who drone on in such a manner that it would put hardcore insomniacs to sleep! If they are to be believed, witnessing a partial (percentage ranging from 5-15, max. I think) solar eclipse is a greater achievement than Deve Gowda not sleeping in the parliament. Umm..kinda lost my train of thoughts there.
The point is, next time anyone gets all enthusiastic about any kind of event or phenomenon related to any heavnly body in the sky, I'll ask them to take a pic, maybe record a few words, take a video, and mail it to me.
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