Random Zigzag

The prologue

2012-04-09T14:55:00.001-07:00

There are 2 or more sides to a story but what most don't bother to read is the prologue. Seen as a useless piece attached to the drama that unfolds, it was originally something which helped the audience cross-over- from their lives as shoe-makers, businessmen, authors and doctors to a moment which the play-write wanted them to experience. He did so because he wanted to paint a picture in their mind as close to what he envisioned in his. The background and the setting was to place things in context for the rest of the show to make sense as much to a bored-out-of-her-skull housewife as to a arduous muse of a famous pianist. It's a pity that paying heed to the prologue is out of fashion now because it helped define whatever the weaver wanted to weave; without it his work of art would be abstract even if he didn't intend for it to be so.

This takes me back to a conversation which I'm glad I was a part of very early in my life. I've known quite a few who'd confuse this with a debate over 'socially acceptable rights and wrongs' but I prefer to call it my contempt for believing in an 'eternal truth'.
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There was once a girl who feared defeat, she laughed at others for she was not going to give them a chance to mock her. She fortified for she worried she'd lose ground if she didn't. She was selfish because she decided that is the way es muss sein. A lot of people around her cringed when she opened her shrill mouth or rolled their eyes (claiming to be a bigger self) and passed her off as insecure. She couldn't care less.

Prologue: There was once a girl who lost her father when she was 10. All that remained of him were faint memories of his chatter and toys that he bought for her. She realized soon that now she didn't get the shiny car that she wanted from the shop window no matter how much she wailed. She adapted and soon she stopped asking for it. Seeing her mom work from morn to dusk- what she understood of life was that you've got to put up a long hard battle to get what you want. That's all she was trying for: to not be caught unprepared.

The truth you see is very different from the truth I see. You see a wrecked home and frown at the newness which caused it, but he sees long periods of silence and all the happiness that should've been but was'nt. You see a misfit but his friend's see a bundle of nerves. You see an innocent girl with no issues and hang-ups, but I see someone who strategically refuses to open her mouth to orchestrate what she wants.

Well here's what makes the difference- there is no ONE prologue which helps us cross-over. In that sense all our views are coloured. There is no eternal truth, the great thing about life is we can make it as subjective as we want to (reminds me of marketing and how much grey there is to it) and no you needn't agree with me because otherwise I'd be going against what I believe in :)

P.S: Knowing all the answers is not so much fun as it is to be able imagine questions which break the code.

The Wishing Well

2012-03-15T02:53:00.000-07:00

I wish there was one in my backyard. I'd either plan my kitchen garden around it or do it up in stylish minimalism using small marble pebbles and white bricks with ivy creepers.

If I could use it only once and only for myself I'd be confused between the following questions:

1. What am I born to do

2. What should I do

3. What will I be happy doing

The determinants for the first two would be different- What am I born to do immediately links it to destiny. What should I do is an incomplete question; it should be followed by- what should I do if I'm looking to ...follow my creative pursuits or earn more money or travel the world etc.

What I'll be happy doing is one question which I may think could mean many things but all of which start with a warm fuzzy feeling in the belly. The scales don't weigh equally for long and a lot of times what upsets this state is the contradiction of two things that make you happy and together they drive you mad (Not delirious with joy but like a raging bull attempting to run into a wall). You have trouble identifying them because they don't appear seemingly contradictory at all. Warm baths make me happy and so do pretty dresses which happen to be expensive (lets put a number to that so you can get a clear picture- Rs. 25000 lets say). I never have to choose between them because they appeal to two entirely different need states. However my job which pays me that extra Rs. 25000 for the pretty dress doesn't give me the time to take pleasure in the nice long warm bath and if I decide to chuck it I won't really have that pretty expensive dress to put on. Hence Incomplete happiness is even more upsetting, at least if I had none I'd concentrate my efforts focusing on one.

My random ramblings won't stop until I chase wholeheartedly and that's possible only if there's one direction to run in.

The wishing well project is my attempt to figure out which direction to head for. I know I want to do 'something', I think I know what puts a smile on my face. I have managed to turn anxious high pitched noises of people embedded in diaphragms into muffled voices. But what I still don't have is a game plan; I don't know if I need one.... all I need is a blur for me to scrape through.

Saluting the bimbettes

2012-02-16T01:31:00.000-08:00

The world of YWAs (young working adults) gets increasingly judgmental with each power band and obviously they transition from YWAs to OWAs during this process. They tend to escape the frivolity of what they fret at, by scrutinizing the people down below, who appear much happier compared their own unhealthy worn-out selves. Of course there are exceptions who might soften when they reach the self-actualization phase or when they reach burn-out.

The one place where their ability to comb and sift is stronger than usual is not in office but at airports. I am guessing it could purely be a function of time at hand and the fact that the silent piercing and probing is projected at strangers and they in turn need not be bothered about the glances scanning them in return. The moment two laptop semi-owners run into each other they notice 1. the models of one another's laptops and handsets 2. The label on the shirt and the leather on the shoes (I'm discounting people who hail from south India here- these are things they won't waste their precious money on (the sole purpose of it being yellow gold or an education abroad).

Well at one such time when I was ambling around a book shop at the airport I noticed a sold-his-soul-to-a-corporate man staring at me and almost sighing as I was getting the latest copy of Vogue billed. The next instant he picked up the Economist. Clearly fashion was not his forte but what right did that give him to condemn it outright. It is funny that his ticket to intellectual superiority was a copy of the Economist (even though he slept midway while navigating through an article). And this is how..exactly how, that people with faces which definitely don't delight brand the fairer/thinner others and penalize them for having something that they themselves don't posses. Now I don't have enough dough but I don't remember ever taking pot-shots at Indra Nooyi's badly-gone-wrong haircut.

I enjoy my bimbotic moments also because this word now encapsulates even the finer feminine things thanks to bespectacled rotund men and women in blazers. And after this post, never again will I write-off a bimbette because at least they do complete justice to what they bring to the table; they never promised to meet deadlines or come up with path-breaking ideas anyway. And EOD they're easy on the eyes-For every ugly CEO there are 3 pretty secretaries who make your day:) Here's saluting each one of them!

Go Play!

2012-01-17T09:18:00.000-08:00

I'm a nerd...been one all my life. And I've been driven by a singular motivation all my life- To earn more money. It began with wanting that red, white and blue square label on the sleeve of my top, then wanting that crushed black silk off-shoulder dress to lately dreaming of an Oscar De La Renta.

My mum thankfully instilled lots of self-pride into me to earn things myself than to lean on someone who earns gold biscuits. But I did go ahead and base my career decisions on it. I could have been a real writer and not an abstract blogger..I could have translated the designs in my head to patterns on cloth rather than hoping that the tailor would deliver to my taste. But instead, here I am a passionate marketer with just a perspective on things that someone else creates.

Words like S.A.F.E, BACKUP and REVISION continue to dictate my life even now. To uproot myself is difficult to fathom. Don't know what it'll feel like to break away from the comfort of shiny paper bags. Then I think a little more and it feels what I fear is answering the larger-than-life question 'Who am I'? which is now synonymous with 'What do I do'. Well why can't it be as simple as- I'm (someone who loves to sing) or (a really great friend to have) or (neck deep in love with my boyfriend).

I have this very strong feeling that I will not regret letting go off a 10 lakh salary jump, neither will I regret not building enough resourceful contacts or being considered flaky. What I will instead have qualms about is:

Not being enough of -an affectionate daughter, a doting wife, a helpful friend, a rock solid sibling
Not being able to walk in the clouds because I was too afraid to trek up that mountain
Not being able to travel far and wide because I needed luxurious stays
Not being able to deal with my finances because I don't understand investments or tax or internet banking
Not reading all the books I've wanted to read because of lack of time
Never being able to sing the same way again as I used to 7 yrs back

....Not having contributed anything significant to the country or to the world ....Now that is mediocre!

And no amount of money will make up for the mediocrity.

So I don't HAVE to fare well in the next appraisal, neither do i NEED to be seen in good light by my boss, I also don't HAVE to echo someone else's thoughts. All I need to do is just LIVE....

For my life won't be defined by designations from now...it'll be defined by doing all the things which I thought I could never do....So I'm going to go Play! :)

To Delhi

2011-12-12T05:20:00.000-08:00

Here's to the city of roadside dhabbas, kulfi faluda, dolled-up women, wintery mornings, innovative abuses, garam chai, imperial ambiance, selective chivalry, vintage chaos and branded luxury...Here's to Delhi- where people don't need a regional language to bond-it's just a mind-set adoption- Happy 100!

Keep calm and embrace 30

2011-11-24T10:54:00.001-08:00

A plethora of 30 somethings around me does'nt bother me anymore and that is what the paranoia is about. Have I overnight made it to their invitee list? Am I that old? Still struggling with a home between a bachelor pad and a household, I certainly don't qualify to swipe into a room full of people who seemingly are facing a mid-life crisis. Also, I am ok attending a string of weddings now, walking pretty in a pair of golden heels but I will hide under my bed for 2 days at a stretch the moment I get invited to a baby shower..eeks! I like the bubble I live in and am extremely wary of people from that part of the world who insist on bursting it with their tales of horror. Their version of reality is different from mine and I prefer not to get corrupted before time.

However strangely my first strand of grey hair had me puzzled in front of a full length mirror (now thats an oddity because I usually stop thinking when I look into one..ofcourse I'm not saying that I'm vain). Neither was it the time to introspect given that I was running very late for work on a Monday morning..but what the heck..life does'nt give us too much time to ponder so make the most of it. Would I someday be part of the TG for an Excellence Creme Loreal? I mean I love the way they pronounce it, but it has never had anything to do with me. Did I fear the sequence of numbers so much? Well...My stomach did a somersault when people sent me anniversary wishes, I choose not to update my relationship status on facebook, My ability to handle corny couples is as good as making an attempt to write with my left hand, I love the fact that I have some friends who are still single and ready for a Sunday brunch unlike others who have to entertain their sister-in-laws.... is it me who should be worried about a quarter life crisis instead?

And with this my flaky self gets a grip..for now I see the 30 somethings fumble and fall in order to gradually come to terms with whiny babies, responsible fatherhood, home loans, a bad divorce, fewer late-nighters, unending singledom or an entrepreneurial venture. After all, we all take our own time shifting gears. And you can never be ready for the next dart thrown at you. In the light of this realization I shall awaken the sensitive and empathetic spirit in me and vow today: 1. I shall get rid of my habit of referring to people who have kids (1-7 yr olds) as uncle/aunty (its just out of habit and I definitely don't mean to mock them and no I don't call them that on their face) 2. I will not judge their one night of drunken fun at a pub as a desperate attempt to be cool; they have all the right to reminisce.

Ain't I glad I have a long time to go:)

P.S: I've decided that I will not cover all greys. I like the graceful salt and pepper look. Age is but just a number-Aniston's living proof!

P.P.S: (hmmm... I'm sure she uses hair color..puts me in a fix again...damn!)

Matte-effect

2011-10-31T13:12:00.000-07:00

Off late I've been noticing that people gawk at me the moment I happen to mention that I did not move away from my parents to enjoy an independent patch but instead that I happen to use a word for the lack of a decent enough synonym in first-person narrative: 'Husband'. I've been trying to second guess the reasons for their display of amazement which comes through side-head-tilts with a thought blurb saying 'ohh poor girl she must've been caged and forced to marry' or a nod in slow-mo hinting at 'these kids they don't quite understand the complexities so far' or a faint smile which says 'dive into the well sweetie, we're in it together'.

You see, the days of ramrajya are only partially over in India and that has left us confused. I'd have to admit that I do feel deeply indebted to my partner for his towering tolerance of my pre-menstrual tantrums... his age, title or car has nothing to do with the respect he earns. We carry forward traditions and certain rituals because it gives us a reason to abandon monotony for what seems like milliseconds and celebrate; the original intent behind these, remain imprints in thin dusty books which are cleaned and chanted with utmost devotion at x.pm. Face it, marriage today is not that sacrosanct an institution for the sake of it and thankfully so. But we are at crossroads where a tiny red dot on your forehead, a gaudy red set of plastic bangles or a warm domestic smile are trademarks that a set of people clandestinely look for. At the other side of the street there exist 30 somethings who scoff at giving their space up. Post 10pm when they get back from their plush MNC wannabe gleaming sky-scrapers, sucked out of all energy they like to enjoy an hour at the gym for which they get expensive plunging Lycra necklines in the hope of finally raising a few eyebrows or maybe they need some 40 solitary minutes with a drink while they plant themselves in front of the TV. Ok this might be a wee bit exaggerated because there are others too who move off to a different trajectory and enjoy yoga vacations in the mountains till the others around them dawning white decide to dawn red. I've seen quite a few and by now have a 'dating won't help' theory. Let me explain: It takes three to four years for the numbness to set in...the numbness that the big bad world bestows on fresh college graduates, cut-throat competition induces objectivity and reduces faith, we unlearn a few things- to share, to smile and to cut some slack. The first few years we are still soft clay, we can be cast in the mould we choose but as the years multiply, cynicism takes over. And most end up fixated and over-opinionated used to doing things their way that they will make no tweaks for someone to fit in. Changing their bed side would amount to re-jigging their lives. Tired they make their way into matrimonial columns or take dart shots at others who've got company for a cup of tea and refuse to invite them because of their constant cribbing.

Its not that married people don't want to relive singledom... if you leave it to them they'd like more frequent Sunday brunches with girlfriends, half-a-day to cool off while watching Neo Sports, drunken nights without being mothered around and a lot of them still hide their rings when they're dressed up to the nines.

For the eligible singles whats more disconcerting is that TinselTown begins to lose all shimmer when you're grooving with Miley Cyrus and Justin Bieber. And for those few women who're still looking to find true love..don't give up hope...just get out of Delhi!

What is life..so full of care

2011-09-13T10:36:00.000-07:00

The single most depressing lesson in every child's life is 'Evapouration'. Suddenly clouds don't remind us of candyfloss, or cotton-balls. Rainbows are no longer magical. Enchanting becomes a dinosaur...a rare breed.

There is a corner in my mind where reality is not on the driver's seat. Where polka dotted mushrooms, beautiful bridges dotted with flowers across blue rivers, a wishing well, colour-changing birkin bags and an elevator to the land of happiness all exist. Lately however my wand does'nt seem to be working at the right time to help me transcend to this state of utter leisurely foolishness. The flowers...I see them... but I don't get the time to notice two pretty pink and yellow butterflies playing alongside. A cup of tea in the rain needs to be orchestrated. And you feel sheltered in flights... thankful that network providers don't operate there.

Is it me, or is it that times are changing really fast. I don't hear of tooth fairies anymore and fantasy has taken the 3D route... Goodbye Lego! ...Silver aluminium foil amused me as a child, naivety it may be, but it put a smile on my face. I've seen enough, and the world is now seen by the eyes of a sadist. Little joys disappear and make way for colourful paper bags. Sadly the only time you can afford to put the ringer on silent is when your mother calls out of concern, your sibling calls for advice or your husband calls just because he misses you.

Your life now has a ring-master who lets you out for a stroll once in a while to enjoy your almost-natural surroundings. Then you let it sink in and you realize that... nothing can ever be a bigger whoopie than the first time you sat in an airplane..not even that Ipad, that friends made, as you tread the beaten path will never hold as sacred a place, that sand under your feet is a great feeling, that marshmellows and chocolate can still make feel you content, that power-cuts would never be as much fun with the invertor, that sleeping under the stars on a warm night was a brilliant idea and that back-to-back movie plans still get your pulse racing.

W.H Davies embeds the thought just so neatly!
P.S Live well, Laugh often, Love much. If you feel you're not being fair to yourself..Quit. Remember: To quit and to fail are not the same.

Untitled

2011-05-03T03:14:00.000-07:00

Some of the best decisions in life are taken by you right after you wake up, in front of a clear mirror and with a foamy toothbrush in your mouth.The moment you start working up the lather around your teeth, your thoughts suddenly seem carefully pronounced and clear as crystal. Most people do not fully recognize how insightful and enriching this experience can be.This is the one time when you get out of your mental comfort zone, heave a few sighs, draw a breath of fresh air and then take the plunge back into monotony... To this extent it can be defining, for the rest of the day, for the next one month and sometimes it may even span a lifetime... this is my attempt to illustrate just how defining it can be.

It may be the time when it strikes someone that the dinner date they are going to spend the day dressing up for is not what they really want. It may also be a time when you stop sulking about your job and decide to register the domain name for your new web venture. A time which has you making phone calls to say your thank-yous and your sorrys. Or a time which helps you heal and move on after a thousand tears were shed the previous night.

What you achieve after this dental devotion may not be monumental but it in the least helps you handle disillusions. 'brushing your worries away' now has a very literal meaning :)

Superficial cravings

2011-03-29T01:01:00.000-07:00

What we haven't been taught is learning to love. But can we be blamed if we were ushered into an era where soccer was marketed to a point that it became glamorous and where the hemline of your skirt was discussed more than any sundry talent that you may possess.

Unconditional like voyeuristic has assumed a larger definition, more in lieu of unreasonable. Drama dictates our lives, for technology inflicted boredom which it frequently attempts to crowd out by more apps and innovations, can more satisfactorily be broken by external manifestations like a fit of rage or glittering pools of tears. Happiness then gets subsided into one of the many ingredients, sliced and grated, and put aside to be sprinkled whenever needed.

You exist in emails and conferences, in a 1 para write-up in a magazine placed in as a filler between the advertorials or at a party over a glass of wine. Of course sitting by the window on a moonlit night, mulling over whether you should get out for a walk doesn't let you derive the pleasure of existence.

Selflessness is now defined in various proportions. And it leaves many of us wondering if our parents were deeply disillusioned or supremely insane when they chose to become private chauffeurs and part-time cooks to see little blotches of human flesh jump with joy. All this, when they did not know if the tiny fairy will sit pretty with silky commercial-worthy hair or be so repulsive as to make others draw out pitiable laughs.

Also our cosmos does not operate by the same set of rules now. Truth can be debated, as many truths can co-exist. Subjectivity is the order of the day. I cannot be cursed anymore if I decide to break-up with my boyfriend if he gets his head shaved without giving me a clue. The same way a man can justify his extra marital tryst with the girl who smiles too much because his wife became an oaf.

Love loses meaning backstage, while under the spotlight we still wait for a prince charming. Why should he be bothered anyway if all we have on offer is company for- those trips to the mall, Friday movies or luxurious vacations. What if hes signed up for a companion; one who can- listen to a soulful song in his crackling voice, greet him with a warm hug when he is too tired to take you out and give him the remote when hes gets restless. If that happens, we're screwed!

P.S the waters are draining out. Shallow will soon take over.

Perfunctory Pain

2011-03-22T02:52:00.000-07:00

Think yolk yellow, sorbet pink, galactic blue or neon green and you're thinking of it all together or side by side; very few picture these in isolation. Life is preferred in ombre, with a tinge of teal, a dash of shimmer and a hue of eggplant purple thrown in as accompaniments.

And yet people are stunned when an Eighteen yr old doesn't have an answer to what he/she wants to do with life. And it leaves me aghast when Indian employers mock at the mention of the word sabbatical.

What are most people in their mid-twenties doing? implementing, taking down minutes of the meetings, hearing out why that new innovation will take a toll on efficiency, backing up meaningless ideas with data and hypothetical rationale, finding out why whims are more important than consumer insights, taking inputs from peanut-sized-brains whose claim to fame is 'colour-sorted' spreadsheets or simply making presentations on things of extreme gravity which get buried in unopened emails. And then theres the afterclap, with shriveled hope they go about doing the motions which define life as they know it, which is a never-ending wtf moment, interrupted at times by a series of blahs.

That's what a burn-out is-- not the extra hours under dim lights in front of a laptop or the living out of a suitcase-- it is a clan of imbeciles sucking up the fire between 9am to 6 pm everyday. Well there certainly is many a slip between the cup and the lip; this was not my answer to what I want to do with life. But if we really noodle around, there can be no one answer. After all, Why should your gusto for measurability and returns to cost hold you from researching hand-looms or writing a book on life with its confections that most women dream of or creating a curriculum for crazy minds.

If only people like 'death'* (*I'm referring to Terry Pratchett's Mort) are kind enough to an apprentice... I would hop around more often...for I know unlike my job, my life is not watertight.

Old is (G)old

2011-02-27T23:20:00.000-08:00

Growing old has varied coping mechanisms. In fact some of the strangest ones fall in this cadre. Some react with strong defenses, consoling themselves of its inevitability and being supremely cocky with people half their age, passing them off as amateurs who haven't seen enough in life while they themselves struggle with the MAC book pro, take time out once a month to find that burgundy to mix with the brown and brush it with impeccable strokes to cover all grey and have to be reminded to check their email, as efficiency as a concept died when they turned 35. Others start dawning the beach blues and the converse chappals, the lingo they opt for amuses a thirteen year old and at times they scare the blatantly young at pubs with the mustache parade, guzzling neat whiskey and jiving to Ma Baker. And some others turn into freaks who haunt the gyms, jogging tracks, Shiamak Davar classes and Pilate sessions- this lot is still respectable without their yellow bandanas and tiny neon shorts.

The truth is when the sheets are off the grace, the salt n peppered hair, the finesse and the wisdom. Old age breeds-- cynics who snarl at seeing others get things early in life compared to them; inflexible, over-opinionated idiots who insist on doing things exactly the same way-like butter on toast but not everything can be classically good, some can bore you to death. Shackled at the core and devoid of all passion from having lost a large part of their life without an ounce of doing anything close to following their dreams, they vent out their frustration on food, employees or wives. How can some-one so one-tracked then be called to lecture a bunch of self-motivated aspirants on how to do things differently and keep the fire alive...

What they have a problem getting through a dense (or sparse..lol) head is that there is no use crying hoarse just so you secure for yourself some respect, your time is now gone...you now also have to give some to get some.

If when Adams wrote, Lichtenstein illustrated

2011-02-25T04:54:00.000-08:00

My life..or even other people's, in my mind, has the possibility of becoming two things when cliches are reinforced: one- A classic high-on-drama movie, two- a ben-day dots version with speech blurbs. Hopeless sighs are lettered in yellow and damsel tears are glittering pools of blue outlined in charcoal from the corner of an eye under an arched brow.

On the other hand, my aversion for stereotypes is at times so severe,that I wish I could send the self-proclaimed dutiful wives on a vacation to the nearby asteroid with a special tube of sunscreen or use the infinite improbability drive before I start whining on my way to work on a Tuesday.

If I were to nominate someone to intercept pre-defined action and events in life with unusual turns of events justified as perfectly logical, it would be Douglas Adams. He would of course take his own time toying with the idea or doing nothing about it. But then again, putting deadlines to something like this would be ironic, since we can't really predict what happens next.

Who would I commission to selectively illustrate the 'at the onset-seemingly flippant and impersonal outlook' with which Adams introduces outlandish situations and characters-Without a doubt there: Roy Lichtenstein. It would be a sight to see Lichtenstein create a cliche out of inter-galactic travellers who carry their towel around or girls like me falling for the uncanny Beeblebrox-types ; a pleasure to see him carve a different reality for people who want to believe in it.

P.S: Not many know that the master of convention, as Roy was called, was also a master par excellence in creating a cliche of those elements that originally distinguished many a genius like Picasso and Monet. Their paintings, he reproduced in his own style, with thick black lines, bold and flat colours and of-course the famous 'Ben-day dots'.

Little drops of joy

2011-01-20T22:36:00.000-08:00

This is not about the drink which re-invented a colour, santa claus and summer days. Ofcourse being a coke loyalist makes me relate to that tag line, however, they did fail to create a connect here with this copy which could be wonderfully leveraged. Moving on...

This is for all those times, when we feel the grey suit or the too- oft- dawned pair of black heels is slowly dumbing us down. Feeding on our brain cells, making us churn out 'mediocre' as a mandate. This is for days when you feel you should've spent more time and effort to develop more enriching skills like pottery or photography. For weeks when you're yearning to pull out that incomplete letter of resignation from your drafts. This is also for enduring months of constant crucification before Atlas shrugs.

This is for you to notice those little things, that in their own way, inspire; because inspiration we all know begins with a smile on the face. Heres to all these inflection points.

1) Reads which can transport you to a different planet.

Takes me down the 'slippery slip' to a world filled with pop cakes and google buns -The Faraway Tree

I am surprised that the Pan-galactic-gargle blaster is not a popular drink and that i hav'nt come across a restaurant called 'Milliways'. Sheer brilliance by Douglas Adams. I particularly adore the description of the most massively useful thing that an interstellar hitchhiker can have and his concept of deadlines :)

2) Dreamy frames: You will now get my concept of picking berries, cycling in the sunshine, having a glass of wine while walking along a clean lone road and staring at the sky.

The long winding road where they meet randomly.

The most picturesque ride with pristine coastlines, vineyards buzzing with warmth and visions of dazzling sunset. What makes it worth even more is three beautiful people.

3) The Sun, the Wind and the Rain: Perfect weather makes your state of mind

The pitter-patter on your windshield just makes a Monday Morning livelier.

A sunny-sitout with peanuts and nimbu-paani to celebrate the end of the week syndrome.

A stroll on a cold foggy evening is best enjoyed on roads where you can hear- the sound of your tappy footsteps, some jazz playing from the porch of the large bunglow facing the park and cold wind blowing across your face.

4) All things girly. WARNING: this is not for women who scoff at pink, think shopping is a waste of precious time or take pride in the fact that other women- nobel laureates, funky film makers, business barons- are not exactly what you or me would call beautiful or pretty or a sight- in crisper words they love it when the brain triumphs all beauty (did someone say cynics)

Epic chick flicks which made every girl want to own a vera wang even more ...

...or get their hands on Kalteen Bars which can cause great damage to one but helps repair another's ego.

Dresses which highlight just want you'd want them to. Your exclusive pick; heavenly creations on cloth, made to be adorned just by you.

A single rose in an earthy vase, a bunch of lilies placed on your bedside table and a whiff of Issey Miyake on your pillow.

Bows, ribbons and glitter. Hairclips with small diamonte flowers , balloons with twirly bronze ribbons, shiny green aluminium streamers with red and green mistletoes, white candles with silver glitter dust..

5) Elegant Stationary: Delicate hand crafted or slick & smart. A smooth black pencil or a florescent yellow eraser. A quirky card holder or a clean-cut brochure. We all love stationery and treasure a well designed book mark.

6) Cobbled streets with painted entertainers, lazy diners, souvenir shops and narrow alleys. Going beyond the European feel...I also quite like the almost- cobbled streets behind the hauz khas tank in the market.

7) Cutting chai or a glass of wine: I strongly believe that if there is one thing that can replace, tea drinking in India, the ritual that it is; it is the tinkle of wine glasses. Nothing can lead to the same sighs with the first sip.

8) A good song: Music is a lot of peoples refuge, it begins where speech ends. If there is one form of art which is nigh to tears it is this. As rightly said by Tolstoy- Music is the shorthand of emotion. Hope, sorrow, joy, disillusionment, love is well brought in by strumming a chord or drawing the bow. Here are few lines, I know, that made hearts ache...Remember when I moved in you, the holy dove was moving too and every breath we drew the Hallelujah...

9) Yellow lights: Let me paint depressing for you; Light blue walls with a thick tubelight, a vase with artificial flowers and typically gupta furniture (no offence to the baniya community, i do know a Few who are quite tasteful). Now walk into a room with fab-india lamps with minumum 60W yellow bulbs, decorative T-light holders, scented candles and a meditating brass Buddha under a picture light , see my point now!

10) Quaint Little places and things: Charmingly odd especially in a old fashioned way is what quaint can be defined as. Antiquated and ornate also being in the same ambit, a lot will remind you of this. I am not talking about venetian drapery and victorian furniture, what I mean is Brass and wood mirrors with lattice, Jodhpur stone jaali windows, creaky wooden floors with old books and brick buildings with Virginia creepers, Vinyl records and the mouth-watering smell of freshly baked cakes.

11) Colour: A Soft sea-green Stole, a royal blue shrug, bright red stilltos-a la' DWP, a traditional Madubani painting, multi-coloured tresses in a wedding pandal, M &Ms.. all this makes one skip a heartbeat.

12) Ice-Cream: Going out for an ice-cream post dinner is our attempt to save the day and sleep happier. A waffle cone is the cherry on the cake.

Living the high life is not just about exclusive hotel suits and mojitos at the beach... in our self-consolation phase, we can attempt to give it a shot with these little drops of joy.

P.S: Though they might give momentary relief till a few Fridays, do not escape taking a pause and looking at the bigger picture. Once you realize what you're looking for- Take the plunge!

Knot fair!

2011-01-05T05:11:00.000-08:00

For the myopic many, it is an easy decision... to indulge in the prettiness and reach a towering exaltation which makes it smoother to go through the ordeal that is marriage. I also believe that the grandeur associated with a wedding is part of a conspiracy theory by the propagators of this institution to cloud the vision even of the most sagacious man or woman. It is only fair to be on a level playing field and then race for the 'whos more pathetic' title.

And then begins 'crappily ever after'. It comes full throttle first at the guys. Suddenly someone for whom handbags equaled utility realizes how your huge yellow bag has to accommodate a hairbrush, a kohl pencil, a lipgloss and the rest are sundry items thrown in as a filler. He now has huge vocab issues which he tries to cope with for he knows not what a clutch, a tube, a shrug or the MAC strobe lotion is. On a serious note, his TV time gets split between Ten Sports and Star World; He who has never panicked unless India's losing a match is now clearly stressed if the geyser breaks down. Never had any attention been paid to anything, apart from the TV or laptop at dinner and now in a flash he has to take time out to appreciate the delicacy prepared painstakingly for him. Between the devil and the deep sea, wanting to burn his fingers and dive into the stormy waters at the same time. Frequently meeting an expectant gaze or a disappointed sigh; for being solely responsible for another person, brings with it, along with undying love- PMS, high decibel venom and a lifestyle overhaul. Undying love now sounds like an oxymoron :)

Though more wieldy for the girl.. what stumps her is how elementary the transformation is and if you think thats music to her ears, it is'nt. Cuz she was armed with a duffel bag to dawn her jaw dropping avatar at her mothers' but not with an appetite to stomach food that her taste buds refuse to recognize. Guilt is something she experienced when she overspent on a pair of striking indigo sandals, not when she slept till 11 AM on a weekend. And for the angelic non-diplomats it does take great effort to restrain from clawing someones face out every time the old chatty neighbour who happens to be her boyfriend's friend, talks like he knows it all, for she would'nt give a toss, had she encountered him at a pub, in a mall or while at work. The identity crisis looms large, she hangs on tight to her sleepover sessions with girlfriends, occasional drives to get a drink and trips to the mall with no agenda what-so-ever. She hates the cocoon which beckons.

And then unknowingly without making an attempt to glorify where they're placed in life, they notice the following: That everyone around them is getting married or hoping to someday and that the former meet their elbow grease to socialize with a frail 'hmm'... as if just trying enough to peek through the shell they've gotten into. The latter kick around before learning how to swim, they don't know what to do with life so they keep trying to entertain themselves by latching on to lonely others like themselves, like a log of wood to keep afloat. And slowly the blur that becomes reality has you nodding your head in agreement yet again to the age-old rule: Each generation carries with it a midas touch which gets lost in translation to the new age contemporaries, so you see the corrosion every time you see an amateur. Solving the ever-existing conundrum about why girls always fall for older men.

It really doesn't do much harm, when on a foggy winter morning you've got someone to drive you to a plate of waffles with warm maple syrup.

Spellbound

2010-12-28T22:47:00.000-08:00

Often I stand dumbfounded, looking at a black overcoat with a scrunched collar extending over the shoulders or or a red silk tube dress with perfect grecian drapes, wondering if these had been divinely blessed.

... it may best be described as a state of trance where a piece of clothing captivates you.- What helps is, perfectly lighted sparkling mirrors, floaty..dreamy music, dilated pupils which make you look cuter and see better, the sheer necessity for a funky teal muffler because you don't have that colour even though it does'nt go with most of the stuff you own and what elevates you and makes you hit the climax is the scramble for the last piece in a particular size- here you reach the 'what the heck state'... 2 pairs of socks to fill up shoes which are a size bigger, a white satin belt with a bow to hold up that dress closer to your waist, breathing in spurts to fit into that stunning purple chiffon skirt...

My visits to the mall (I say mall because large retail spaces with variants in different colours, fits and textures is the epitome of confusion ) almost always leave me enamoured; my impulse then leaves no room for brain. My sense of sight completely takes over and plastic reigns supreme again.

Then on one such day in quest of a smart pair of socks in black, I chanced upon a red coat dress. In my dictionary this would be classified under a 'must-have'. After the first trial I realized how irresistibly hot it looked. I played it up till the seventh trial when my adjectives stopped working, La Vie En Rose was now devoid of any tints, I could see clearly why the last piece in size S was still there- it looked shabby with jeans and was too long to look chic with tights. I broke the spell that held me long. Enough to prevent me from spelling broke.

The Yes, the No and the Can't Say

2010-10-29T11:17:00.000-07:00

If you observe people and patterns you will take note that some people are always OK with things- available for a quick drink, up for an unplanned road trip and have no strict preferences on cuisines. Some others are wet blankets, resistant to change or a new hangout, at their hang-uppy best all the time, always ready with an instinctive 'no'. There is a third compartment of people too, those who have a problem committing to just about anything-the kinds who need a minute to decide whether they want their burger with or without cheese, the kinds who'd give out a 'hmm' when you're looking for a definitive yes or no, a typical trait of theirs is heavy usage of words like 6ish, brownish, inappropriate, kind-of, we'll see.. and the likes.

While the buddy who's always game is your caffeine on a bad winter's morning, dig a little deeper and you'd be entertained by the fact that her most oft-used means to get out of relationships, a casual social gathering which intercepts her shopping plans, a birthday lunch which coincides with a day at the spa or a friend's bachelorette because she is too lazy to wax, so far has been to stop taking phonecalls, hand over her phone for other people to answer or even change her number, each time assuming that the person on the other end would get the hint :). In their defense, we have phenomenal writers like J.R.R Tolkien who believed that escapism had an element of emancipation in its attempt to figure a different reality.

A killjoy may be driven by logic in the parallel world which exists in his mind but to you he may seem to be possessed by the spirit of a miffed 5 year old. He just might avoid a European jaunt because weather.com predicts mild rainfall, a stick jaw at night because he'd have to brush his teeth again or wash his hands off a fabulous deal because minor issues like utility and frequency of use begin to do the shimmy in his mind. Infact they are on such a trip of their own that they refuse even to consider that a Valentino dress or a louis vuitton bag would be an investment passed on from one generation to another. What saves them is the commonsensical, down-to-earth and seasoned projection of a pragmatic thinker. The left side of their brain is embedded with tenets and precepts while the right side is wired to choose the strangest combination out of these for them to creatively state reasons for not doing something and baffle people they know, yet again.

Type 3 delude themselves into believing that the world will wait on them. The kind who always want to have the option of curling back into bed, putting on their dancing shoes or throwing on a snug stole and walking out to watch a play. They hoodwink you into thinking that they are the ones who stand strong on their word, however in reality its nothing but a disclaimer absolving them of any responsibility. I wonder what will become of their modus operandi when find their cosmos shrinking with age and the constraints which come with it as an appendage. Loneliness they say does'nt leave you many options...

Given the number of people who fall in the above three leagues whats off-colour here is balance. Balance is placid. But I'd rather have the waves crash into rocks or feel them pull the sand from under my feet.

P.S:People who are always game, keep their word and show up on time are the ones who don't really have a life ;)

On the face of it

2010-10-12T03:02:00.000-07:00

What happens when a gawky 25 year old South Indian-nurse looking-curly haired woman suddenly realizes that looks don't really matter at her workplace and her head reeking of Coconut oil is the key to the treasure trunk - She goes on a vindictive power trip! She shuns away all chiffon skirt swaying, jimmy choo wearing variants with a stiff hairy upper lip.

Then again there is the blue eyed, golden haired and milky white stunning statuesque who came out of the chasm and instantaneously learned how benevolent it was of her to agree to be born, and that their single-most insignificant gift to mankind is the enthralling beauty for which they themselves cannot take any credit. Too bad that the makings of a strong persona with habits that a dignified human being must possess take a backseat. For a good pedicure can always make up for appalling behaviour or bad breath.

Most fascinating are people who constantly work on different versions of themselves. They hit puberty at 28 when they land up with pink tresses and have a parallel personality on Facebook. You can't really blame them, they've always been on the line which spells mediocrity, always just short of a strike out. So when most people their age get over all that jazz, these aspirants start to paint the town..

All three above know not the art of cutting the Gordian knot. If you can't get what you want by being smart just play dumb or dewy eyed. Beauty in flesh will continue to rule the world.. but you wont want a fifty dollar haircut on a fifty cent head. Normal is good. Symmetrical is uncommon. Too quirky kills it. But before trying to pull of any of my priceless pointers remember beauty is skin deep but ugly cuts to the bone

Going Solo

2010-10-11T02:48:00.000-07:00

Have you been privy to those few performances on a karaoke night which would've sounded great with one powerful voice but be equivalent to cacophony with two three people going ga-ga (literally) on it. Why would a musician take the pains to create a choir with the Altos-Sopranos-Bass combo (technically of course with a lot of sub-categories within each) if all she needed was 10 people singing 'father figure' in nursery rhyme fashion.

The sad part is that most people don't know when to kiss the mic and when to give it a pass. Worse is when they forget the life-jacket while braving stormy waters- A slight amount of reverb to soften the edges and add a bit of depth. So when do you stop looking around waiting for someone to join you- for the book reading sessions on a comfy Sunday afternoon or at the buffet table for a second helping of the scrumptious peanut butter pie and then at the gym to burn away that sinful treat?

There are times when even two is a crowd and you just need to "Run, Forest, Run!" Just make sure you have your sipper full and your gear intact.

Those who swear by sidekicks rather than superpowers, might want to examine how the kid in yellow, red and green became an archetype. They might even want to argue how Betty was Riverdale's darling while Archie wed Veronica..cough cough..don't know about that but well Betty was almost short of earning the title of the eternal doormat that day ;)

Shine on you crazy diamond

2010-09-15T01:52:00.000-07:00

Just like, when its murky you have to find a bright spot, you have to believe that its your song playing, to be able to sing along. You've got a zillion takes to paint your palette because you have the black, the grey and the white to rescue.

Our life has a drag and drop tool with a fill colour button and a ctrl z which works in certain places but I've seen very few play the game with the same joy like that of a 5 year old. I see some people yearn for happiness like its a drop of rain which on the mercy of the rain Gods is supposed to fall from the sky and into their lap. And then I see some just walk into the starry night with a smile on their face leaving behind- a relationship whose inevitable failure was visible to them long back, a job that made them crib every night before going off to sleep and every morning while driving to work, a plot of barren land the acquisition of which nearly gave them a heart attack, a country which could never be home...

If you think you have to walk your way through a minefield and that every next step that you take or detract from may spell doomsday, you start to tread carefully, measuring the outcome of every move, ironically though if it actually is the eschatological final battle what has one to lose..

Also very few can confront the elephant in the room, the rest just put on a pair of dark glasses and continue with their miseries. So next time you decide to use · · · — — — · · · send it out to your heart instead of your head.

Once more upon a time

2010-08-30T14:07:00.000-07:00

When Douglas Adams said " Is'nt it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too" I am assuming he had forgotten the one thing we also seem not to remember these days- Think what we would have been, if instead of being fed with fables and folklore we had been crammed with todays' news headlines.

The dissolution of the la-la land comes with a thud. It might be when we realize... in the words of Taylor Swift "that prince charming is not easy to find and that the bad guy is not wearing a black cape, he is not easy to spot, instead he is really funny, will make you laugh and has perfect hair." But then again classic fairy tales do not deny the existence of heartache and sorrow but they do deny universal defeat.

Age and experience might claim to teach you how to never make the same mistakes twice but they definitely succeed in teaching you how to stop believing in miracles. We lose our appetite to stomach fantasy. The movie ratings are reflective of the same... I see people mock happy endings branding them as unreal even though they'd still read to their kids of the kiss that brought Snow White back to life after she got tricked into eating a poisoned apple...and then I see people who rave and rant about how brutally and bravely honour killings were depicted in LSD and that it was a tragic yet true portrayal of a big social menace, however they do not usually care if reiteration will ever equal resolution. We have become cynical to an extent that we put aside the sprinkling of fairy dust and the sunshine ray and prefer to discuss seemingly sexist statements by the 'Wolf' in The Little Red Riding Hood.

If fairies and goblins and elves and unicorns make me happy, if the topsy-turvy land atop the Faraway Tree going wisha-wisha makes me want to befriend moon-face and have pop-biscuits and if I feel all will be ok when I think of the heroes, I trust we all need fairy tales to keep the magic alive. We need to float and dream. We all deserve at times- to be rescued like Rapunzel, a house made of cake and gingerbread, a pretty pair of glass slippers which fit perfectly, a fairy godmother, a fistful of magic beans and a flying carpet.

P.S: We all deserve Neverland :)

Of men and malleability

2010-08-23T01:21:00.000-07:00

I would like to believe i have an above average-active social life. Also with the limited number of places to go to in Delhi when your search filters are: South Delhi, Rock music, Conversationable, Relatively cheap, Happy hours, Karaoke nights, Decent people, casual summer dress etc. makes the six degrees of separation shrink to 3 for you. To illustrate with an example: Everyone knows a, a's ex, b's best friend who is now seeing a's ex.. and so on.

Anyway so the above was to prove that my sample size and frequency of exposure can validate and form a basis for my trending.

Lately my faith in God and in Delhi is getting restored. Men have landed from venus or have returned from Warwick or Leeds or Macquarie or wherever in the world they were sponsored for a nifty post grad diploma by their folks after they got off their gifted corollas in college. Well my point is good looks are back in town though the charmers are still missing, the picture in my head when i say charmers are suave smooth seniors in school maybe a generation or two ahead of us. I wish i was born a year or three earlier... the era would've been magical.

Coming back to what compelled me to sit down and write this post is that these seemingly decent men (the ones who are my age usually with a goatee or slick shirt pulled over a lean body) who make spurts of appearances are accompanied by women who are either qualify to be trophy wives without a distinctly identifiable personality or docile coy women who have never heard the yellow submarine or strawberry fields forever while Mr. X happens to worship the Beatles. The point of intersection between both women being that one can usually spot them nodding their heads in an agreeable manner (please take note that i do not think this is bad or being judgemental about it in any way..lol).

This has made me draw an analogy that men look for gold leaves instead of diamond studded tiaras. That is because gold can be hammered or pressed permanently out of shape without breaking or cracking while diamonds are known to hold their shape under temperatures that would melt silicon.

If it is men and their safe options which usually guarantee a 'Happily ever after' life i guess i should be extremely grateful and thank my stars for finding someone who does'nt mind the wild child in me ;)

Sigh.. Sigh

2010-08-13T12:38:00.000-07:00

It is saddening... the state of women today. The difference between the past and the present being their acceptance of what gives them happiness-Emotions which were freely expressed, colourful hues, a tinge of silver, pretty faces, made up eyes, laces and ribbons and visible efforts added just for them :)

Now it seems there is dual pressure because 1) more and more women are constantly struggling to gain ground in a male-dominated society, I mean its only fair if they sleep with the VP for a promotion just like Mamta Didi has all rights to earn her own share of money- why should Lalu be a single player in the game AND so it is also right if one appears to play cool and go with the critics and ROW. and 2) Due to the fact that they can spot a lot more well groomed, attractive, fair-faced or rich women than earlier there is a greater degree of differentiation required because they sadly don't have the beauty card- hence the intelligence quotient becomes top gear; their mantra (talk about existentialism and jean paul sartre, condemn every other woman who looks like a piece of art, envy the privileged 'green' few and label them as women who just married right while they themselves look like a broom..LOL).

So i get it when most movies celebrating womanhood are about brave rape victims, successful entrepreneurs, idealistic models or plush politicians. But what about balancing femininity, grace and elegance alongwith. What about the forgotten truth that women call a spade a spade, they feel, they relate and empathize. Maybe the large bunch of man-ish freaks reading this post are already in the process of developing testicles ;)
What about complicated emotions not of a female war-hero but of a selfish, shallow, fashion-obsessed barbie-doll who can still be worthy of love by a completely grounded man (also seriously ask yourself which part don't you like the rich part, pretty part or the part where it hits you that men think you've got brains but still treat you as invisible as you lack the former to be drool-worthy). It might not be a manifestation of reality but you are kidding yourselves if you think thats a non-section.

Well some movies are just meant to entertain, please the eyes and soothe the mind, if you scoff at them you know beforehand you're not the TG so give ppl on your FB a break- Don't go and watch it. And for fat old corporate losers who try and rip the movie apart at work... take a break..you're just sour because such women have always been out of your league.

Cheers!

Uncoupling

2010-08-09T03:46:00.000-07:00

I am compelled to discuss this considering I am at a stage where I may have to forgo karaoke parties (my love for them is evident now) for my married friend's birthday dinner because I feel it might be considered rude to ditch them just because they are married- which has strengthened their equation of being able to suck everyone into the 'couple' zone.It is their inherent ability to perceive two people as extensions of each other devoid of the fact that as individuals their choices and tastes could be like chalk and cheese. Their idea of space and doing your own thing is that men get shoved to a separate place to discuss things over a mug of beer while women sip their wine and discuss the men.

It is i am sure a great feeling when you know you're the centre of the universe for someone but i was always under the impression that a center is something you always want to come back to after strolling through the nooks and crannies like in one of those green circular plastic maze puzzles. There is a sense of achievement when you're able to get the three silver balls to the center but the challenge ends when you let them stay there for too long. I am guessing the awesome-twosomes take Newton's first law of motion very seriously.

They also tend to assume that most people around them would adore the 'my bonnie lies over the ocean' talks. What does not hit them is that people like myself need a babel fish (wiki it you would love me for introducing you to this world) in their ear to be able to get it. It is galling that they go on about the surprise dinner they have arranged for their partner, then about what they should wear for it... and then expect one to be completely engrossed in their debate over whether purple orchids or white lilies make the cut.

One trait which permeates all couplekind is like Trillion they would leave the planet for the two-headed Beeblebrox. For you to get the context I shall elaborate. i.e they will abdicate the rest of their equations with one and all. It is a rarity to see them join in to celebrate your new job because for starters they would be so out of loop that they'll hear about it a month from when you bagged it.

I am halfway from pressing the panic button when it dawns on me that I'm not the only one who does' nt fit in, I'm hitched to a guy who tacitly agrees that it is extremely bothersome when you're expected to pick up the phone mid-way an Atlas Shrugged or your next blog post.

Are we even Steven?

2010-08-05T13:16:00.001-07:00

If there is someone who strongly goes against the Apollo Munich tagline 'Lets uncomplicate' it is a Cancerian. I need a pat on my back for stating that in black and white because had any such judgement come from a true blue Cancerian it would have taken about a month; they will first create a corner in their mind, place that judgement and then weave a situation around it so that they are truly convinced. So now you know that they will say it only if they are able to artificially justify it to themselves so that they derive the satisfaction of being neutral.

Next they will take about 15 days to blurt it out even to their closest people because words once spoken cannot be taken back and they'd want to have the luxury of doing that. Now they'd argue that its just about being judicious but don't you get fooled. This is how they justify their non-committal nature in their head ;) Yes I would tend to agree that their perception of being diplomatic actually stems from here.

I have had the privilege of having a Cancerian room-mate, dating a Cancerian, being great friends with one or two of that breed (tags: Gupta and http://purple-karma.blogspot.com) and now also spending my travel time to work with a Cancerian friend. With all due respect (only because I love my roomie and am buddies with my ex) all that I know about Cancerians and their mode of operation is a product of my efforts only and maybe my prolonged association with them- they are'nt a book, they're a password protected ipad.

'He will take his secret to the grave' I'm sure the person who invented this phrase must've been close friends with a Cancerian if not a Cancerian himself. They harbour, button-up, bottle it up, gulp it down I don't know what they do but they do it very well. They'd make you want to put them at gun-point and have them give it all out (though they'll manage to confuse you by putting you in a loop). This trait of theirs according to them should be defined as being 'mysterious', let me give them a reality check - this ability to be restrained peppered with how ambiguous they are is what gives them a tint of being 'detached' something which will keep their closest friends from banking on them when they really need you because Cancerians are not very helpful during SOS are they?

But more often than not their taste in music is just what you're looking for, I have connected with every single one of them mostly on that. They also have a penchant for being clued onto random scraps of information which make them excellent conservationists. You cannot get bored with them. Also a peculiarity I've noticed about them is when they get entranced they flout all the above rules and just be themselves, be it their cribby, cranky selves or self-less give-it-all -i've-got selves (In fact this is so rare that their true self almost comes across as an oddity..lol). I know how one of my extremely sane Cancerian friend's obsession with Katrina Kaif is almost scary and unlike himself :)

If Libra embodies balance (which it does not!) Cancer signifies pseudo-balance. They are always looking for a middle-ground and their interest behind it is not tact or prudence, they're just looking for a safe place to bury their heads.