Reflections

Time to Eat the Dog...

2009-11-01T15:42:00.006+05:30

...has, funnily enough, become a topic of debate. Following this article in The Times of India, my friend Roshni wrote:

An article titled “Your dog’s carbon footprint is twice that of SUV” (Oct 28), has me appalled not only at the literal implications of the suggestion that we should eat dogs, but also the politics behind comparing the carbon footprint of dogs with SUVs. It is nothing but a blatant defense of consumerism and a convenient way of taking away the responsibility of humans for the ecological crisis. It ratifies destructive consumerism by showing that we are not the only sources of carbon emissions in the biological world. When the developed countries are not ready to even acknowledge the climate threat, this provides an excuse to further ignore it. Why are we forgetting that it is not the dog that creates imbalance in the ecosystem and lives out of harmony with nature? We have no right to take away its right to exist for a problem that we humans have created ourselves. The dog does what it does to simply survive. Are the writers of this book (same title, by New Zealand architects, Brenda and Robert Vale, researchers from Wellington's Victoria University) implying that life is secondary to material luxuries? By their own logic, if the solution is to eat the dog to reduce its carbon footprint, shouldn’t humans be subject to the same? If we shouldn't keep pets (they even compared the carbon footprint of a goldfish to 2 cellphones!!), what right do we have to have children?

I find this article a motivation to believe literally what Swift suggested in his "Modest Proposal" - eat children to reduce poverty. He might have been bitterly sarcastic, but times show we are coming to a point when it might not be so. We will not stop our greed even if we have to eat every single edible thing on this planet.

In other "discussions", opinions vary. I found some worth mentioning:
From here: "So if you want to save the environment, skip the Prius and just eat Fido for dinner." (Sensitive, eh?)

"This is less about mulling over Fidoburgers, than having you feel better about your gas-guzzler."

And a very interesting discussion thread running here. Snippets:

Person 1: "Dogs are very cool. Some meathead in a designer hummer is not."

Person 2: "The point is they want one and you don't or they can afford one and you can't."

Person 1: "Any of you SUV rocket scientists read the article? The same ecological impact as driving 10,000 km (6,213 miles) a year in a 4.6 liter Land Cruiser.

A) 6,000 miles isn't diddly on the average SUV

B) BUILDING the unnecessary SUV puts the carbon footprint up there with all the dogs in new jersey.

C) for whoever it was back there, I could easily afford an SUV, nice big, new one as a matter of fact, but I drive the 93 Camry that I bought new used and intend to put a good 200,000 miles on it before it gives up the ghost.

I have no problem with SUVs for a decent reason. you need to drive a big Suburban because you are contractor, makes perfect sense. you want to be one of these Escalade driving accountants I see around town, who can't even parallel park the thing, stop running the planet into the ground for your ego and stop clogging up the highway with your lousy driving in a big machine.

Show me a farmer in a beat up Ford Ranger, hey I salute him. Show me some moron downtown at the bar in his immaculate Navigator with out a scratch on it, I don't give a damn how much its sales manager "wants" it, its an eco-crime.

Person 3: See, that used to be the beauty of the USA...you can have your opinion...hell, you can even express your opinion. But, if *I* wanted to buy what *I* wanted to buy...so fricking what?!

Person 1: "Yep, its true. Any idiot who wants to can crap up the planet here."

Gee, this thread has potential. Go read it for yourself. And do share your views too.

To You, With Love

2009-10-16T23:10:00.004+05:30

Ten thirty at night, and my moping was interrupted by the shrill sound of the telephone. I knew before it was answered that it was the call I'd been waiting for. She sounded sleepy, having just woken up--it was one o' clock in Durham, still, late by her standards--and didn't show the birthday enthusiasm yet. It would kick in soon, I was sure. I sat down cross-legged on the bed and settled myself comfortably for a long chat. Not that it had been long, not since we last talked (only yesterday), but it had been long in so many other ways. It's not everyday that you wish your best-friend-for-fifteen-years (or since "the beginning of time", as she put it) a happy twentieth, after all.

We dug up every memory we could find. And I was still thinking long after we'd hung up. From the first day we'd met when I walked into class I-A, the new girl, and was slightly intimidated by the intelligent, short-haired girl in the row next to me who could spell "shampoo" with ease, to the day we got to know we'd be going to the same college. I remembered our excited plans to become dancers when we grew up (something she accomplished, I might add) and go running off to the mountains to visit my grandparents. Our western music classes with Mr. Brown in the basement, when we'd cheerily sing anything from the Titanic soundtrack to Billy Boy. Our batik classes and the time she fooled the teacher into believing we were sisters so I wouldn't get into trouble. Our belief that making a wish on an eyelash would come true, and how we pulled out eyelashes to make more wishes. Our Barbie craze and our Harry Potter craze and our vampire craze. Birthday parties and frilly frocks and party hats. Hide and seek and chase. Hot chocolate fudge and Pizza Hut. Cupboard rummaging and glares. Weird photographs. Albums of memories. Walks in the college lawns and talks on the benches. Homework and notes and practical files. Gifts from every holiday. Farewells and sleepovers and long long conversations.

Some journey.

PS- Happy birthday, again, and many more to come! <3

Travel Tales

2009-10-08T22:54:00.005+05:30

I guess the day had to come when I'd finally be traveling alone. All alone. I just didn't think it would come this soon. But it did, and has just passed me by, leaving me feeling very different...older, somehow. It's always pleasant to find out that you really don't mind your own company!

So I traveled down south, Manipal being the exact destination, but having seen a few places--well, airports, really--along the way. The flight to Bangalore was pretty uneventful, the only interesting thing being the conversation between the little boy and his mum sitting next to me ("I know how planes fly!"..."where does all our luggage go?"..."can I open the window?"..."why is it always night in space?"). Aw.

Whizzing to Bangalore in a taxi, I was accompanied by my thoughts and a lot of phone calls. The pleasant weather made my spirit soar, and I could feel a tinge of adventure in the air. Of course, my juvenile sense of humor didn't abandon me, as I waited excitedly for a sign of the Palace Grounds (mainly to send my brother an evil message, this being a sore point with him) and wondering how the Bangalore traffic police manages to feel dignified in their strange uniforms.

Image from here.

The evening was quite a blur, with new friends and cups of tea and random conversations and phone calls and Calvin and Hobbes. An early dinner later, I found myself in a bus with my "new friends", sitting next to a very fat human specimen who took up half my seat (no offense, but I was rather miffed). I gave up trying to sleep through his snores after a while, and we made some adjustments that left me sitting by the window, a lot happier despite my poor numbingly-aching legs. Our excited late night repartee about every book imaginable finally culminated when a co-passenger was awoken by the same and proceeded to rudely shush us. Sleep was impossible with the amount of jumping we did at regular intervals (yes, calling the road "bumpy" is definitely an understatement). We finally arrived at our destination around 7 a.m. and awaited the motorcycles.

One thing that I learnt on this trip is how deeply I can sleep. I slept through:
1. Very loud drumming, knocking and banging on my door.
2. About fifteen phone calls. While the phone was vibrating right underneath my head.
3. Seven successive alarms intended to wake the deepest of sleepers (read: my sister).

But I did wake up every single morning that I had to get to the conference all by myself and a little earlier than necessary. Fishy, huh?

A Week in the Life

2009-09-25T21:14:00.005+05:30

I confess, I do miss blogging like I once used to. But it’s lost its charm somewhat, mostly because all the people who read and commented on my blog seem to have vaporized (hint hint). But anyhow, I doubt that the self-importance-inducing pleasure that blogging gives will ever completely die out; so here I am again, two weeks (and several books and movies and a consolation prize in a photography competition) later. Miss me?

Yeah, rhetorical question, if you must.

Last weekend, we had our Diwali Mela (yes it’s always a month earlier, please don’t ask why) (because I don’t know) (well, I suppose it’s because the holidays interfere…but you could’ve figured that for yourself, no?) and it was very very hot. In addition I was bullied into purchasing two ridiculous articles of clothing from a friend’s stall (I NEVER do that, I should tell you, so that just tells you how hot it really was). I’m pathetic when it comes to shopping, mostly because it’s always exhausting for me. I always end up getting stuck on two things and having the yes-no-yes-no debate. Gah.
But still, the blueberry yoghurt, pasta and chocolate-dripping waffles were quite a high point. Not to mention my friends’ excitement over getting their palms “read” by a woman who I can swear was saying practically the same thing to everyone. And charging Rs. 60. What a rip off.

The department journal troubles are also far from over. After the disconcerting yet satisfying (who says it’s a man’s world?) trips to dodgy printer shops last month, I could have sworn the worst was over. Except yesterday saw me doing the same again, though it was a little more eventful this time. There we were, walking purposefully through the throng trying to accost us with cries of “software” and papers being thrust under our chins, when there was a loud “bang”. No, not diwali being celebrated very early by some industrious vagabond, but a real fire from an electric wire (ooh, I rhy…okay too old for that). Right above our destination, too. And people were being particularly stupid, crowding around it for a bit as thought they’d never seen fire before, and then just pretending it didn’t exist and walking up and down just the same as usual. Our conversation went something like:

G- Ah, the complacency of Indians. *sigh*
K- Ooh omg they’re actually laughing! And what is that pink shirt staring at?! *gape*
A- I did NOT mean it when I said I was going to be obituarised in our journal! *sniffle*

Ah well, all in a day’s work.

And to end on a musical note—have you ever noticed that when you sing songs without actually concentrating, you subconsciously pervert the lyrics? I sure do =/

For instance, this song became:

I’ll be your flying soldier
I’ll be your suicide…

Hmm, not very flattering now, is that?

But don’t mind me, go listen to the real thing, it’s beautiful.

Enchanté

2009-09-10T12:08:00.004+05:30

Browsing Flickr for inspiration is always a good idea. Sometimes, of course, it leaves you with utter disillusionment at your own modest (in)abilities, but more often than not you end up staring open-mouthed at the screen in awe.

Something that happened when I saw this image by Gale Franey:

And this is only the beginning.

For more of her amazing work, visit her photostream or her website.

Till later!

Booked

2009-09-06T22:40:00.002+05:30

Following a disturbing discussion in German class on how the internet is dulling creativity, critical thinking and reading habits, I marched into the Delhi Book fair at Pragati Maidan with immense vigor. The long walk in the sun till we got to Hall 12A was not as much of a dampener as it could have been, and the sudden gust of cool AC breeze at the entrance only reassured me further. Inside was a gargantuan red-carpeted paradise for book lovers, though with its share of a rather uncouth crowd. I was a little disarmed to see that a huge square space in the middle of the hall was being used as a picnic spot with families sitting cross-legged with tiffins and all. Not that I minded it particularly (there were enough books to make up for it all) but the aroma of an amalgam of pickles pervaded the whole experience. Ah well.

I went with two particular books in mind—a graphic Bible recommended by Babbitty on Friday, and an English translation of the Quran recommended by my German teacher an hour previously. For the rest I intended to be surprised. Imagine my reaction when I found the Qoran sitting happily in one of the first stalls I visited—and priced at a meager twenty five rupees! The first purchase was made.

Then followed a long long row of stalls that had nothing at all to do with books (where me and dad did buy a couple of things nonetheless, including the most adorable visiting card holder in pink! Not that I have any cards to put in it, but who cares). I also saw a very long line of people crowding a particular counter so I curiously went to see what the fuss was all about. They were trying out a pencil.

Just as I was beginning to be disillusioned by the sudden paucity of books, along came salvation—rows upon rows upon rows of books being sold off at the flat price of a hundred bucks. Obviously this is where I spent most of my time, ending with a stack of books taller than me that I was impatiently ordered to select from. Grim task, that, but I managed it, ending with a German book on India that I might be able to read in a few hundred years, a book on the Stasis that I’m extremely thrilled about, and something resembling a chick-read that I suspect will be very useful in days to come.

Along came Penguin. We went, we saw, we did not ~~conquer~~ buy. Off to hall 11 then, we thought, finding no decent place to rest or grab a bite. The graphic Bible sustained me. Munching on my brownie, I decided that I admittedly did not have the energy to roam the hall anymore, and a phone call informed me that I was in the wrong hall anyway. We elbowed our way back to 12A, to Penguin once again, to the table in the center that I had confidently informed dad earlier would have nothing worth buying. It took mere seconds to locate the hallowed book, several dozen minutes to pay and then it was finally over.

Jeez, no wonder I’m tired.

Where the Colors Don't Go

2009-09-05T19:32:00.003+05:30

Today I took my first holiday in twenty-one days and I couldn't be more cranky.

And trying to figure out why is so not helping.

Someone once said that life is a contest between what's urgent and what's important, and Urgent always wins. So true. Waking up early, getting through classes and free periods and humidity and notes and assignments and presentations and interviews and outings and faces, oh, so many faces. And feeling alone through it all. It takes its toll. On the one holiday, on the one day you thought you'd just forget it all and sleep. Because that one day, you have time to think. To connect with yourself and figure out exactly why your world is so messed up.

Thinking isn't very nice.

And at the end of it all you come back to all the notes you missed and all the catching up you have to do and all the faces you don't want to see but have to yet again.

Kites

2009-08-19T19:38:00.006+05:30

Having finally "flown" a kite on Saturday the 15th of August, for what I believe was my first time, I got thinking about why kite-flying is the ritual on Independence Day. I mean, I understand the beauty of the colored diamond-crepes floating around up above the world so high, and how they could be a symbol of freedom. But then, they are controlled too, aren't they, by a string from the ground or a rooftop?

Not that the kite always obeys orders, no sir, for the pretty shiny purple one I chose was gormless enough to get stuck behind several obstacles no matter how hard I tried to maneuver it (in my defense, I believe it was defective).

Nonetheless, the sight of the dozen or so kids strewn along my route to german class on Sunday morning, kids who might normally be begging on the street or occupied elsewhere, standing with eager faces turned skyward and hands deftly and vigorously tugging and pulling at seemingly invisible strings, answered my questions somewhat. The colored diamonds were back in the finally-cloudy Delhi sky, and also, I believe, was the hope for a new day and a new beginning.

Happy Happy

2009-08-08T21:29:00.005+05:30

Guess who's birthday it is today? Guess guess?

I'll give you a hint: He plays tennis. He just won back to back Grand Slam titles. He's number one. He dotes on his wife. He just became the father of twin girls. And omg, I swore to myself I wouldn't do one of my oh-he's-so-awesome rants. But he's having such a great year, can you help being happy for (or with) him? Nah. But don't want to jinx it. *taps wood*

Charlene and Myla with their parents. Aren't they wunnerful? The happiness of this picture just gets to me. So many of us are at a place in life where work is all-important and having a healthy relationship or happy marriage may be reserved only if it "happens" for us. But really, who doesn't want this?

Anyway, I'm hell tired and got to wake up super early to spend Sunday morning in class, as always. Oh well, there will be a reward for my pain. Maybe some day I'll meet Federer and his family and jabber with them in fluent German. Lalala.

Happy Birthday! :)

Mothers and Daughters

2009-07-25T17:02:00.006+05:30

Yet again, the ideas I have for posts far outnumber the posts themselves. And it looks like it's going to stay this way for a while, because with the way things are going, the only time I get to even breathe is on days like today, when I feel ill enough to be forced to bunk a class and loll around at home. And even then, people are presumptuous enough to tell you that you do nothing all day long, simply because they have giant misconceptions that studying English Literature from Delhi University (keeping other things aside) is a Piece of Cake. Well, people will be people. And sometimes you just have to stop worrying about being the quintessential nice, polite person and say, to hell with them. Not that I'm really talking about me here, not altogether. But anyway, I digress from what I really wanted to post about. The TV show that was powerful enough to prompt me to actually wait for hours on end for it to download. Ladies and gentlemen, presenting Gilmore Girls.

Okay, so firstly, it's set in a place called Stars Hollow. Now if you know me well enough, you'd know that I'd have to see anything that had a place with a name like that, especially if it were as quaint and pretty as Stars Hollow actually is. And then, there's the story line. I'm just halfway through season one, but I'm glued. It's about a 32-year-old single mother and her 16-year-old daughter, both named Lorelai after the male 'fashion' of naming sons after fathers. In fact, the mother-daughter theme runs strong through the show with basically three such relationships being explored. And most importantly, the script rocks my socks :) It is smart, witty, unpredictable and captivating. It's rare to find a so-called drama show actually making you giggle more than some sitcoms do. The feisty charm of Lorelai Gilmore Sr. and the innocent freshness of Lorelai Gilmore Jr. will always make you want to watch more of their 'chemistry', as their ordinary lives strike a chord with yours. Fairly fast-paced (another scorer with me, I hate having to watch what the characters do every single hour of every single day) and always lively, this is a show that explores human behavior. And if all that weren't enough, throw in a few very cute boys, and there you have it.

The Clock

2009-07-15T21:29:00.003+05:30

So, the poem first, then.

I gaze ahead in blank contemplation
Seeing nothing, forcing the right thoughts to stay
The hands of the clock never reverse their motion
The motionless calendar marks each passing day

I’m trying so hard, too hard, perhaps
For never did force masterpieces inspire
But I need to explain these passing hours
And to somehow find that inner fire

I open my notebook to an empty page
And hold the pen ready yet again
The clock ticks as I search for my muse
As so many times before, in vain

It’s hard to admit that I’m failing at life
And to face the questioning, demanding world
The bend in the road is still out of sight
It’s hard to accept that I’m just an ordinary girl

The pen drops from my listless hand
Staining the page where the words should have been
I gaze again at the ticking clock
That shuts the doors on the dreams I’ve seen

It takes but one moment to end its life
And its broken hands to pause in mine
I gaze down at the shards of glass
Not in blank contemplation this time

I know the river will still flow
But it might bring my muse to shore
And though the moon will wax and wane
The steady stars will let me dream once more

And I’ll begin my life, build it stone by stone
Slow and steady I’ll climb the stairs
And answer the world with a smile of my own
But all in my time, not theirs.

To Poona and Back

2009-07-14T16:23:00.004+05:30

Argh I have SO MUCH to tell, I don't know where to begin. Should I start with the poem I finally managed to write after a zillion dry days? Or the trip to Poona where the weather was just as weather should be? Or the reader's block I've finally overcome and what I read as a result? Or the slowly-killing but uber awesome Wimbledon final (men's, obviously)? Or the movies that I feel absolutely compelled to review? Or the sorry tale of how I dropped my camera in water and find it impossible to go on living? Or the driving lesson that made me wonder if I'm too uncoordinated to drive a car? Or...OMG WAS THAT A RAT????

...........

Swan Song

2009-06-27T16:02:00.005+05:30

The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul

Of that waste place with joy

Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear

The warble was low, and full and clear; ...

But anon her awful jubilant voice,

With a music strange and manifold,

Flow’d forth on a carol free and bold;

As when a mighty people rejoice

With shawms, and with cymbals, and harps of gold...

~Tennyson's The Dying Swan

I came across this verse by Tennyson (my favoritest poet of all time) a few days ago, and had the photo to match. Hmm, no, I think I matched the verse to the photo.....anyhow, I just thought that I'd like to dedicate it to Michael Jackson, it seems to...fit. I've never really been a huge fan of his, but I do respect him as an artist. And I *love* Heal the World. So. RIP.

Of Photography

2009-06-18T20:20:00.007+05:30

Oh, what a week! I’ve been out and about so much that I can’t even recall what I’ve been up to! Which suits me just fine. I’ve realized I’m happiest when I’m busy. Not that I don’t have time to get bored, that could never happen. I vaguely recollect whining about it in the recent past. But all in all, though I can’t exactly quantify what I’ve been doing this summer (and though my to-do list still remains unscratched), I’m quite happy with the progress I’m making (again, not quantifiable. Or explicable. You get the drift. ^^). And I have a feeling it’s going to get better.

On Monday, me and the best friend conducted our first-ever photo shoot with a model, a concept, ~~3 stools, a carpet, an umbrella, 2 cameras, flowers~~ and three bagfuls (is that a word?) of stuff. After a lot of brainstorming and photostream browsing, we finally managed to zero in on a levitation concept that seemed too awesome to be true. But we couldn’t find balloons. Sniff.

Shooting was fun, minus all the greasy-haired, cell-phone-waving, gaping, gawking guys that come to a pretty place like Nehru Park for some reason that I have failed to fathom. Atleast the ones without girlfriends. We got a pretty clear view of what the ones with girlfriends come there for. For once, I was pretty thankful that I’m near-blind without my glasses. Hee.

But anyway, check out what we came up with! I’m pretty proud of us, if I say so myself! I couldn’t use Photoshop to save my life till four days back, but today I did a nice little editing job while talking on the phone at the same time. Ah, I knew it, if so many others could do it, why on earth wouldn’t I be able to? :P So there you have it, a sample for all ~~the lazy gophs who don’t like clicking the links so painfully provided~~ to view:

Here’s to many more to come. *toasts*

Note: All images are copyrighted. Please do not use without permission. Respect the model.

Allez

2009-06-08T18:59:00.010+05:30

Ah, what a day! Or rather, what an end to it. Being fully aware that my tennis-related posts never garner many comments, I still feel the compulsive need to post about this...epoch in my life, if you will.

Since my TV still refuses to chow Star Sports, I haven't been able to watch a single tennis match this year. Why don't you get it repaired, you might ask. It's because I'm lazy. Thank you. So anyway, I couldn't possibly miss this particular match, where Roger would possibly make history. With Nadal safely out of the way and his conqueror across the net, Federer finally did what he had been waiting for for so long. No wonder he sobbed. I like guys who sob, I've realised. Not those who sob all the time, you know, but it's nice to know they can and be reminded once in a while. Whoever started this concept of crying being a womanly thing anyway?

Of course, Nids' couldn't stand it. She thought he was weird, and strangely enough, that I was weird too. She also thinks Mirka is weird and crying is weird. Weird.

The match wasn't too long or close, to say the least, except the second set. But that was probably because Federer was too distracted by the weirdo who got onto the court and started waving a Spanish flag in his face. Even tried to drape it around him and put a beret on his head. ( I missed that because Nids' insisted on watching Wizards of Waverly Place for some reason. She is such a kid.) But anyway, shocking really. All everyone was thinking was "it could have been a knife...". A Monica Seles all over again. And plenty of people could be out to get Federer. *shudder*

But funny man, really. Imagine getting 30 seconds of fame for waving a flag. Probably had one drink too many. And not a word about the incident in today's paper, strangely...

But when all was said and done, Federer was in total command out there. He hardly made any mistakes, played the most artistic of shots and deserved his win. ~~No one could have looked happier~~ Oh wait, he was crying...when presented the trophy by his good friend Andre. I couldn't understand his victory speech coz he spoke in French. Seriously, he is so awesome. He speaks four languages. Fluently. Hotness.

He has named his latest prize "Coupe des Mousquetaires" and introduced her to us on Facebook. He is so awesome. (Have I mentioned that already?). But yeah, he is.

Oh, what does that "coupe" thing mean? Anyone? I did learn some new French words yesterday. Jeu, quinze, trente, quarante. Forgotten how to pronounce them, though.

French sucks.

But the French Open doesn't, anymore. :)

Update: I found wedding pictures! Look how happy they are! Awww. And people are hilarious, there are speculations as to whether he will name the baby Roland, lmao!

Bouillabaisse

2009-06-03T20:49:00.004+05:30

This summer is turning out quite ok. I don't really have time to get bored! I can't exactly quantify what I've been doing, but I'm never idle, and that's a feat for sure. Since mom and dad aren't home, I can feel shoots of responsibility sprouting up in me and I find myself cleaning without being asked! Wonder of wonders, life does funny things.

I watched Erin Brockovich today. Fun. I wish I could talk like that :( Also loved Renaissance Man. I think I'll do a whole post on movies soon. Internships and photography have taken a back seat for now, though I did have one memorable session shooting myself with a guitar et al. I say memorable; it was more of a catastrophe than anything else. The light was wrong, the camera had to be balanced on a chair and a Harry Potter and I had precisely 10 seconds to set it up, grab the guitar, run pass the chair on which it was kept (taking care not to move it by even a nano-inch or the camera would fall), hold the guitar in a pro-like position so as to not betray that I'm actually a poser, compose my face and be still. Several hours and several hundred shots later (okay, slight exaggeration), I did not get a single shot that was actually nice. Photography is fun? Not.

I think I had an easier time than good ol' Nids, though. She's stopped blogging, sadly enough, and nothing I say seems to convince her otherwise. Worry not, I'm still trying. But her photography is somethin' amazing.

In other news, the French Open is pretty eventful this year. Last year, me and Sonal were writing an analysis on it for a magazine that never saw the light of day (ok, weird). But this year's just full of upsets. Not only are both defending champions out, but so are several other high ranked players. In the fourth round, at that. But I didn't gloat. I just get better every year :)

Which reminds me of a conversation I had with this guy in my class a couple of years ago. He said the day Nadal loses the French will come after I'm married (or some such thing). May I please be excused now? I have a phone number to find.

Dolce vita, my foot

2009-05-25T18:33:00.005+05:30

Anyway.

The poster of New Moon is out.

Pretty decent, I think. I don't really like ~~Bella's~~ Kirsten's expression much, but no surprises there. Jacob, to my relief, looks very nice with short hair, which is a good thing because he's the best part of New Moon. Edward, I think, is going to continue that white-faced-lipstick-ed look because of which he failed to send a single shiver up my spine while watching Twilight. Which (in case you're new to this) is blasphemy. I like what he's wearing though.

And yes, I'm a Twilit/Twilighter/Twihard or whatever the fans of this series are called. Have been one since last...September, was it? Why I like the books is a whole different post. On second thoughts, lets skip it altogether, shall we? Let it suffice to say that I don't appreciate its criticism or spoofing in my (or my blog's) presence.

Oh, and, guys like it too. I love reading their reports, especially this one and THIS ONE. Haha, unbelievable.

I keep forgetting what I have to post.

Oh yeah, check out this video. The song in itself is pretty hilarious, but me and Nids nearly died laughing watching this. It's the song as interpreted by this international comedian. (I only clicked on it because I spied chocolate chip cookies in his hand).

And did I mention I hate cricket? And IPL? Pfft. I went to the mall the other day and was pleasantly surprised to see many cute-ish guys. I wondered what they were doing there. Then I found out the mall was showing the semi-final on a (ta daaa) big screen. *eyeroll* I went to the family club for dinner yesterday. Guess what? Yeah. And this time there was also an irritating emcee tempting people to win stuff (every time she started speaking, Sahil muttered "Swatchwatch, win a Swatchwatch" under his breath. I'm going to hate Swatch watches from now, I just know it) and real live cheerleaders. Cheerleaders, I ask you.

Cricket attracts people in our country like flies are attracted to dung. Or however the simile goes.

Just in case you were wondering, the title (well, the first two words) mean "sweet life" in Italian. The rest is self explanatory. Yeah. I'm flunking my German exam, so I might learn Italian next. Or Spanish. And I'm going to study photography in Italy next year. Or Spain.

I will I will I will.

Violence Gets Younger

2009-05-19T19:46:00.001+05:30

A first-grader shoots his classmate to death because he doesn’t “like” her. A youth murders his invigilator for not allowing him to cheat on an exam. A group of eleven, after a game of cricket, forcefully beat up a boy and rape his girlfriend. Another high school student goes on a shooting spree, killing some of his fellow students and staff.

A pattern can be noticed here. Not only do a majority of these incidents involve the youth, but nearly all such incidents involve males. There seems to be a gender divide as far as aggressive and harmful activities are concerned. Nine out of ten cases of hit and run or of underage, over-speed driving involve males. Nine out of ten rapes involve youths below the age of 30—it is a universal fact, and not just in India—that rapists are getting younger. The fact that minors cannot be imprisoned and are, admittedly unfairly, let off easy, might be a major reason for the lack of threat they feel from the law. For instance, in many cases of drunk driving in Delhi, parents bail out their children or they get off with minor punishments, at the most doing a drill directing traffic. So much for a life lost or an injury sustained.

Having made these generalizations, the aim of this article is not to slander any particular group or gender of society. It is only an attempt to see a pattern, and to try and understand why this trend is on a rise. Reasons for such crimes, of course, may be in most cases personal. However, we cannot ignore the fact that certain triggers or methodologies of thinking are also leading to an increase in this perversion of thought. The media is one of them. Films and television shows, including cartoons targeted at young children, depict an increased rate of violence. It is a psychologically established fact that even children of the age of 2-3 years are intelligent enough to recognize violence, and they do not realize that what they are viewing is not a part of reality. Cartoons like Batman, Power Rangers and X-Men depict violence in every single episode. It is no wonder then that children exposed to this may turn to it as a solution to their own problems, and think that the only method of getting their way is by beating the “enemy” up. Moreover, the perpetrator of violence is often glorified, and this sends out a dangerously wrong message to the society. Not only does it encourage imitation, but it also sows the seed of the idea of escaping justice and punishment. Movies like Rambo and The Brave One bring forth the idea of the complete absence of justice in the society. Video games are another source exposed to children that encourage them to “fight” and “kill”, some being particularly violent and with extreme explicit graphic content.

Music has also been known to initiate and cause aggressive reactions, especially certain genres like hard rock and metal. Concerts, like that of the Rolling Stones in 1991 in Missouri, have ended with outbreaks of actual riots, this particular case involving 2500 youths, and injuring 60. The behavior at concerts is often frantic. However, even in the safety of one’s home, it is amazing how a song can initiate so much violence. A student in America killed his mother before committing suicide, and was known to have been humming a song about blood and killing one’s mother for a week before that. Songs with names and lyrics have also been known to trigger such reactions. Although it would be wrong to simply say that all such music perpetrates violence and should therefore be avoided, the attraction of music especially for the youth is something we cannot dismiss.

With so many wrong signals being sent out unwittingly to the audience, is wrong to expect the obvious to follow? The role of parents in bringing up their children as responsible citizens, then, is of paramount importance. They need to censor and keep tabs on what their children are being exposed to, and shouldn’t be too liberal in what they allow their children to do. There is a time and place for everything, but some things are best left out. The human psyche is in constant search for the new and the unexplored. This same trait, in a skewered mentality, harbors a threat to the entire society, for a perpetrator of violence leads not only to his own downfall (if at all) but to that of innocent victims, which violates a citizens’ right to security and leads undoubtedly to a very unhealthy society.
[Originally written for and published in The Viewspaper]

Happy Birthday to You <3

2009-05-14T22:47:00.002+05:30

Aaaaaaaand, we (that is to say, myself and Reflections) turn TWO today. Hip hip hurray *jumps up and down* (not really)

Unlike last year, I really can't think of any special way to celebrate. I still marvel at the journey and how much I've grown *snigger*, and I'm obviously grateful to my readers too. Y'know what, just read last year's post :)

Besides, I'm wearing my year-old glasses so can't see much. And I already had vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce *slurp*

But here's cake, want a piece?

Thanks for reading and commenting and just being there!

Democracy et al

2009-05-09T18:47:00.006+05:30

Voting was a very undramatic experience. It took only two minutes of being surrounded by sweaty faces, indulgently smiling at me as though I was some idiot (perhaps with good reason, since I thought the fake voting machine was the real thing and panicked when I couldn't find my candidate there). A beep and unphotogenically blotchy index finger later, the much hyped adult-citizen "right" had been exercised and done with.

But, as one friend put it on Facebook, I felt "all empowered" :)

I'm not going to mention who I voted for, but I guess it's pretty clear who I didn't vote for. The party whose agenda is "Criticize the Governtment and Hypothesise Success". Really, all they ever do is stuff like this:

I mean, how, sir, how? Unless you plan to cut off chunks from your salary for distribution and recruit them all as PAs? They had similar post 26/11 ads. I suppose they would've donned AK 47s, manned hotel entrances and shot down people looking "suspicious".

And the hoo-haa over the no-vote option is something I really don't get. What, really, are those who wish to exercise it trying to prove? That they've done their duty by getting their finger inked? There's going to be a government whether we like it or not, so isn't it better to contribute to its selection rather than expressing disdain by choosing to abstain? (Ooh, that rhymes!) Unless someone's willing to make a real change, like, let's say, contesting the election yourself. Hmph.

Sunshine and Summertime

2009-05-06T21:01:00.002+05:30

Freedom is not totally getting on my nerves yet, though if I don't go vacationing soon, I might kill myself.

Yes, I realise those were kinda conflicting sentiments. Welcome to holiday season! In a bid to make this summer slightly more productive than the last, I decided making a list during would be a better idea. That way, you know exactly why your summer wasn't productive and you don't have the excuse of a fuzzy brain preventing you from recalling the details.

But anyhow, it's only been a week yet. I think I deserve that much un-constructively used time after slogging for the fatalistic exams. So I've been sleeping a lot, and watching too much TV (including 50 First Dates for like the 50th time; and the recent addiction - The Big Bang Theory, which is pretty hilarious. Except, WHY does Raj talk like that?). I also wrote half a song, translated half a (different) song, reviewed The Tales of Beedle the Bard =), attended two German classes, wrote german letters, studied german....yes, I get it, that's a lot of German. Well, whaddya know. I need a life. I would go out except the weather is a humbug (while Luke perpetually lives outdoors. And gets startled by hissing deer and moose families mwahaha). Oh, the jealousy. And the world had to go and get swine flu at this time of my life. Honestly, what did I ever do wrong?

PS- Twitter sucks. All my blogger pals have been stolen. Meh.

Résumé Writing...

2009-05-01T19:01:00.002+05:30

...the art of objectification by listing exactly why you are up for grabs.

I detest making them. Bleh.

Gettin' High

2009-04-03T22:32:00.002+05:30

I've been thinking about music alot, especially because Lyra came along, and then there are these essays on music we have to read for history. I've discovered that I really like country music, or country pop more like, along the lines of Faith Hill/ Taylor Swift. Well, those are mostly the ones I've tried so far, though you do get kinda tired of the themes in Taylor's songs after browsing a few. I really want to figure out which instruments make which sound though, because there are some that I really like and I want to flaunt my tastes. Hee. I can also now play four-and-a-half guitar chords and the intro to Colbie Caillat's Bubbly.

While learning the guitar, I thought of this quote by Raghava Menon, "Today music is treated all wrong, as though it were mere science, a matter of arithmetic, of fractions and time intervals." it rings quite true, though whether that's a bad thing I leave up to you to decide. Music, I think, has always been about a pattern, which has been better acknowledged with the advent of science and math, thus making it all the more reproducible and precise, and therefore easier to "learn". At the same time, I don't really find it lacking innovativeness or emotion. I guess you can argue it both ways, but I'd appreciate comments and discussions on this topic just the same.

Another thing I was thinking about was the effect music has on the mind and psyche. Not only does it help the memory, it also has the ability to alter your emotions at any particular time. Has anyone wondered whether it could actually give you a "high" in a much healthier way than the other things people get high on? Interesting, I think, that people needn't resort to drastic measures when all they might need is a little music "therapy". Google doesn't have anything to say on the subject however, as far as I could find. Music "addiction" is heard of, but I'm guessing that's more a matter of restraint and hardly one that'd have creepy withdrawal symptoms. Again, opinions are welcome.

So the next time, folks, when life's too much

And when you're feelin' low

Pop in that CD or plug in those headphones

Or just turn on the radio,

Although the radio these days plays utter kitsch.

Kitsch is SUCH a cool word, ain't it? Came across it in this history essay, history ain't that bad actually...

Now, if you will excuse me, Ima go make myself useful.

Bloggers Are Dead.

2009-03-13T20:57:00.005+05:30

Yes.

But I miss me blog, so I shall post anyway. Now that I'm freer, yay! And I got news :)

Today, for me, was the official start of the holidays. Well, study leave, but same difference. I celebrated in grand style by waking up at...

...3.30 p.m. Cool, or what?!

So all the projects are over, all the assignments are over, farewells have been said and parties have been attended. AND iPODS HAVE BEEN BOUGHT!!!! Like, finally! I'd thought of naming mine Ken, short for Kenneth, because it's fun. Plus you get to make all these double entendre jokes, like "I sleep with him every night" or "he's in my pants right now" (NOT my idea, okay?). But it didn't feel like a guy when it finally came, so it's a girl. Say hello to Lyra XD

Isn't she just awesome???

A Week in the Life of

2009-02-19T15:09:00.004+05:30

The title looks weird. Anyway.

What a see-saw! Everyone is now rather bemused at the fact that out of the five projects I've been harping on, like, forever, I've still only finished two. What the hell, I can't help it if brilliant ideas come to me only when I'm under pressure. Like now. When I have no time to execute them. Or execute them well, rather.

The project on Shakespeare dragged on longer than it should have, but it was quite fun. I discussed and compared two of his plays-- A Midsummer Night's Dream and The Tempest. The fairy mythology, the use of magic and dreams and stuff. The man was quite brilliant. I know alot of people who reckon he's way over-rated, but let's not forget that he was a writer of popular theatre, which was intended to help him earn money and entertain an audience comprising of every class, and not to be compiled into books and dissected by literature students. There was always a crunch of time, and I think he was one of the most versatile playwrights I've come across, questioning and bringing in a plethora of issues in every play. He was also very progressive for his times, in his portrayal of women, say, or generally that of "the Other", which is why he had to raise questions but leave them unanswered for fear of being censored or banned.

Yeah, so I finished that project last week. Valentine's Day was fun, I wasted lots of time and it felt good. Impromptu plans are always the funnest. Watched Marley and Me finally, missing the first 20 minutes and entering a hall filled with chortling people; but it didn't disappoint. It was funny, cute and heartstring-tugging all in one. (See my review of the book here).

Late Sunday night, a brilliant idea for my history project walked into my head. Leaving me exactly one afternoon to work on it. *sigh* Obviously, it didn't turn out quite as I wanted it to, but it was fun nonetheless-- tracing the history of the postage stamp, right from the first Black Penny (wiki it) to their near-extinction today. Sounds fancy, doesn't it? At least I managed to finish (watched 50 First Dates at regular intervals to keep me going) and I even photocopied stamps from my collection as samples and everything! :D

TWO DOWN!

Three to go. *cries* And I'd better return to my philosophy project now :( :)

And oh, DO read and comment on my articles here:

Yes, I'm publicizing desperately, because unfortunately the readership there is rather poor. :( A pity, really. So go!

Ciao!