<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067</id><updated>2024-10-04T23:36:25.077-04:00</updated><category term="Society"/><category term="Art"/><category term="Prism"/><category term="Food"/><category term="Travel"/><category term="Words"/><category term="Photography"/><category term="Politics"/><title type='text'>·Cub[¡]k&#39;s Rube·</title><subtitle type='html'>Bordeaux-based, via Moscow, Mauritius, Cambridge, Montreal, and Toronto, with some Indian and French thrown into the mix.&#xa;Amusing musings, givings and misgivings... Your comments are most welcome. Please be kind enough to identify yourself.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>272</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-2806098453150475724</id><published>2011-10-12T16:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T16:43:54.727-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Food"/><title type='text'>Bordeaux Food</title><content type='html'>Of course, one of my first interests when I landed here was food and its collaterals. From the first 12 days, here are some notes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The cannelé is the speciality. It&#39;s got a quirky cute shape, but the taste itself is nothing to dance on roofs about. Bordeaux has a crazy number of chocolateries, with tantalising displays, each outdoing the other. Many of them have the mention &quot;Meilleur Ouvrier de France&quot;, best French Artisan, which does make you wonder how many &quot;meilleur&quot; there are.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The lunchtime menu in most restaurants is a standard: a combination of main + dessert or starter + main for 7 to 12 euros. Coffee is often included. And the main is an actual meal, not a sandwich. Tap water is common and brought to you on a simple request. And for once you DON&#39;T have to keep specifying &quot;without ice&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Service is interesting here. I&#39;ve experienced nothing but perfect courtesy so far. That&#39;s definitely what we were used to in Toronto too. But one thing strikes both of us. There&#39;s a stronger feeling of equality. In a way, you often feel more like this person is inviting you to a paid meal, rather than this person is paid to be perfectly polite and welcoming to you. It&#39;s subtle, but there. And it works. You don&#39;t get offered parmesan or pepper when you order food, and if you ask for it, you don&#39;t have to tell the server when to stop with the pepper twisting. :) But, while a serviette is standard with a full meal, you have to ask for a napkin if you&#39;re just ordering coffee and a pastry. I miss the napkins.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Obviously, the menu often has limited options for me. Chicken and fish don&#39;t necessarily show up on all menus! Nor does lamb or duck. The vegetarian option is not bad, but that can get boring quickly. So we&#39;ll find the right places, and sometimes I&#39;ll just settle for the veg option. Mostly, I&#39;m just going to keep cooking as much as I did before.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The pastries: yup. They&#39;re here alright. Apple pie, mirabelles pie, crème brûlée, scones (I need to go back and take a picture of this shop window which had scones on display, and had an explanation next to it of what they are. Such was the lack of English culture among his clients, apparently). And &quot;glaces artisanales&quot;. At almost every corner, there&#39;s a store offering ice cream of the handmade or traditional made variety. Which really doesn&#39;t help when you suddenly have a yen for a good old vanilla Magnum with chocolate crust that comes in the plastic seal. Still haven&#39;t found where to get that. I walked into a corner store and all they had was the 6-in-a-pack variety, nothing I could just grab and eat on my way. Meanwhile, the pain au chocolat and croissant from the nearby bakery don&#39;t hurt too much, except most probably on the scales in about two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The bread is just awesome. It&#39;s the only one thing which I can safely say beats anything I&#39;ve had in T.O. Everything else is great, but nothing we couldn&#39;t really find in Toronto if we looked. I get it about the bread now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The produce range is varied, but more limited than Toronto. I miss a number of exotic things, and we need to get to one of the markets, where there will likely be more unorthodox vegetables and fruits. Maybe. I love the names for really regular stuff. Salt is &quot;sel marin de Guérande&quot;. It&#39;s just sea salt. I guess the names in French sound striking because I haven&#39;t been in touch with them for a while. And here&#39;s the thing. Food shopping in France is really close to food shopping in Mauritius. We have a number of French grocery stores there, and import so many things from France. Or have French franchises operating. So all the brands are those I&#39;d find in Jumbo in Mauritius, the container formats, the sizes. It&#39;s all interestingly Mauritian. (Have not found Sarjua pickles, but will not be surprised to).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have many more discoveries to make. Yes, the cheese is amazing. They even have a fair variety of pasteurised ones. I miss sourdough bread, dried cranberries and TRIEC-made food. And I can&#39;t wait to be in my own kitchen in the apartment we found. More culinary adventures lie ahead.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/2806098453150475724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/2806098453150475724' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/2806098453150475724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/2806098453150475724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/10/bordeaux-food.html' title='Bordeaux Food'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-5432929411876380838</id><published>2011-09-01T10:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-01T10:27:35.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Longans</title><content type='html'>We bought some longans from the grocer&#39;s. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They&#39;re from Thailand and taste different. But they&#39;re one of my happiest fruits. Longans bring my grandfather right back to me, the two of us standing in his front yard, gazing hopefully up at the large branches of his longan trees, silently coaxing the small brown spheres to get plump and juicy faster. And at long last, him plucking them with a tall thin pole while I crab-walk around him with my hem held up as a mock basket to try and collect some of them as they fall.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Their smell is that of carefree summer days spent as a little princess overlooking my fruitdom.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/5432929411876380838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/5432929411876380838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/5432929411876380838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/5432929411876380838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/09/longans.html' title='Longans'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-6479142307194389949</id><published>2011-06-10T15:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-10T15:50:00.478-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Food"/><title type='text'>The multiple uses of chocolate</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;When you miss breakfast, two squares stuffed into a croissant under the mini-grill at work make great pain au chocolat.&lt;/li&gt;

&lt;li&gt;From &lt;i&gt;Jeff de Bruges&lt;/i&gt;, when you spent one week in Paris without your wife and you need to soothe hearts once you’re back.&lt;/li&gt;

&lt;li&gt;From &lt;i&gt;Juliette et Chocolat&lt;/i&gt;, le traditionnel à l’ancienne, to give yourself indigestion because you couldn’t stop early enough.&lt;/li&gt;

&lt;li&gt;Dark and semi-sweet, to make yourself happy (you’ve heard, haven&#39;t you, about the endorphin burst and how indispensable to happiness chocolate is?).&lt;/li&gt;

&lt;li&gt;To survive hunger pangs when you’re in Portugal, kilometres away from any food, and the only restaurant you find is closed for siesta.&lt;/li&gt;

&lt;li&gt;From &lt;i&gt;Kinder&lt;/i&gt;, with a little toy inside, to make children ecstatic (even when they’re 30).&lt;/li&gt;

&lt;li&gt;To discover that lavender is gorgeous, especially when cocooned in dark chocolate from &lt;i&gt;Odile Chocolat&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/li&gt;

&lt;li&gt;From &lt;i&gt;Nutella&lt;/i&gt;, in a glass container, to make anything taste good, but also, to build your collection of drinking glasses, as is apparently well-known by every French person.&lt;/li&gt;

&lt;li&gt;From &lt;i&gt;Godiva&lt;/i&gt;, wrapped in beautiful wispy paper, with a card attached, as a surprise from your parents on your birthday: to remind you that you are loved. The &lt;b&gt;best&lt;/b&gt; kind.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/6479142307194389949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/6479142307194389949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/6479142307194389949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/6479142307194389949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/06/multiple-uses-of-chocolate.html' title='The multiple uses of chocolate'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-926056980136757575</id><published>2011-06-09T11:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T11:57:46.110-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Art"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Society"/><title type='text'>Bollywood Cinema Showcards at the ROM</title><content type='html'>How could you not love a city where you get this kind of invite in your mail? In anticipation of &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.iifa.com/web07/showcase/2011.htm&quot;&gt;IIFA 2011 &lt;/a&gt;taking place in Toronto,&amp;nbsp; a number of institutions are organising activities, including the Royal Ontario Museum.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMmgOrHaZoHx1Dz65t4o03m5BFjMALwIpFiTi5Jovbmtjfz7f462EBgmKF6f910OQvqNxqw2nzcPPo6YvK0iRtdNBL6GVWTk-je1nNPBP-DeY8bn_JjIlk-RFGyiHpYi579kj/s1600/Bollywood+Invite.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMmgOrHaZoHx1Dz65t4o03m5BFjMALwIpFiTi5Jovbmtjfz7f462EBgmKF6f910OQvqNxqw2nzcPPo6YvK0iRtdNBL6GVWTk-je1nNPBP-DeY8bn_JjIlk-RFGyiHpYi579kj/s320/Bollywood+Invite.jpg&quot; width=&quot;230&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So looking forward to it!&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/926056980136757575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/926056980136757575' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/926056980136757575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/926056980136757575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/06/bollywood-cinema-showcards-at-rom.html' title='Bollywood Cinema Showcards at the ROM'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMmgOrHaZoHx1Dz65t4o03m5BFjMALwIpFiTi5Jovbmtjfz7f462EBgmKF6f910OQvqNxqw2nzcPPo6YvK0iRtdNBL6GVWTk-je1nNPBP-DeY8bn_JjIlk-RFGyiHpYi579kj/s72-c/Bollywood+Invite.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-7319903329498784302</id><published>2011-06-07T22:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T22:20:36.621-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prism"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Society"/><title type='text'>Where are you from?</title><content type='html'>This article was part of the daily news digest from our communications department at work. Many non-Canadians don&#39;t get why Canadians would be offended by the question &quot;Where are you from?&quot;. I didn&#39;t at first either. After all, it&#39;s healthy curiosity, and in Mauritius, we often relate to people as cultural entities as much as as human beings (whether that&#39;s a correct thing is a debate for some day soon). Still, if you&#39;ve grown up in a country and you relate to no other country than this one, it can get tiring really fast to have to answer this question ALL the time. Below is an excerpt:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Top Ten Answers to the Question: “Where Are You From?”&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Canada is made up of immigrants, some here earlier than others. It’s  become a bit of a game to see who’s from here – as in their family has  lived in Canada for a few generations – and who may not be from here as  often experienced by Canadians of colour despite being born and raised  in the country.&lt;br /&gt;
It tends to follow a pattern. You’re talking to someone when the Question comes up, “Where are you from?”&lt;br /&gt;
“Uh, here.”&lt;br /&gt;
“No, where are you really from?”&lt;br /&gt;
And so on.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So we did a quick and non-scientific straw poll to find the best answers to the Question. Here are our top ten:&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Click here to read the &lt;a href=&quot;http://reneesw.com/blog/the-top-ten-answers-to-the-question-where-are-you-from/&quot;&gt;Top 10&lt;/a&gt; answers.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/7319903329498784302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/7319903329498784302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/7319903329498784302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/7319903329498784302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/06/where-are-you-from.html' title='Where are you from?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-353667607302189209</id><published>2011-06-06T09:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T09:22:52.962-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&quot;Il faut laisser le temps au temps.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Didier Barbelivien -&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/353667607302189209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/353667607302189209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/353667607302189209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/353667607302189209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/06/il-faut-laisser-le-temps-au-temps.html' title=''/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-7627671481225207328</id><published>2011-06-04T09:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-04T09:34:24.082-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Before Summer Rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Rainer Maria Rilke&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly, from all the green around you,&lt;br /&gt;
something - you don&#39;t know what - has disappeared;&lt;br /&gt;
you feel it creeping closer to the window,&lt;br /&gt;
in total silence. From the nearby wood&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
you hear the urgent whistling of a plover,&lt;br /&gt;
reminding you of someone&#39;s Saint Jerome:&lt;br /&gt;
so much solitude and passion come&lt;br /&gt;
from that one voice, whose fierce request the downpour&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
will grant. The walls, with their ancient portraits, glide&lt;br /&gt;
away from us, cautiously, as though&lt;br /&gt;
they weren&#39;t supposed to hear what we are saying.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And reflected on the faded tapestries now;&lt;br /&gt;
the chill, uncertain sunlight of those long&lt;br /&gt;
childhood hours when you were so afraid.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/7627671481225207328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/7627671481225207328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/7627671481225207328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/7627671481225207328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/06/before-summer-rain.html' title='Before Summer Rain'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-6212128448562905521</id><published>2011-06-03T10:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T10:50:10.946-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prism"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Society"/><title type='text'>Notes from a newly-landed in Toronto</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;These are raw notes from a newly-landed immigrant in Toronto, two  weeks after arriving in November 2008, in the middle of a recession: the  angst, the puzzlement, the shock. Gauging the evolution in mindset and  outlook since then, it&#39;s a vivid reminder of the resilience of human  beings.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;&quot;Toronto is a big city. I watch  people in the bus, and think of how much more difficult it is to spring  to celebrity and greatness from within the morass. How amazing it is  that Obama has become President in the States, where there are bigger  cities and 10 times more people. This society ceaselessly invites and  invites you to consume. Flyers with cheaper and cheaper prices for food,  sales of buy 2 get a 3rd free. Canada is made in China.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mothers  speak their native language to their children, who respond in broken  Russian, Spanish, Urdu and English. Mothers hug their babies close,  having spent about 20 minutes just to dress the little ones against the  cold. You have to think of everything before braving the conditions  here.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is strikingly absurd that we should persist in  acting as if all is right with the world and carry on shopping,  &quot;bussing&quot;, working, eating and playing as we would have had it not been  minus 10 degrees outside. Women still feel the need to be fashionable.  Guys still have the willingness to style their hair in the morning. That  must be part of the bravery. And the same bravery leads them to learn  how to end up being exceptional.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hot dog vendors attempt to personalise their stall: European-style hot dog; Polish-style hot dogs; veggie hot dogs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Malls:  collections of stores brought together with the intention of easing the  necessary job of shopping to fufill human needs. But shopping...  block-like agglomerations scattered along bus routes designed to drive  droves of hungry minds to the branded and brandless outlets. The  realisation that things are just things, that they are right there for  the taking, and that beyond the interest for shopping to live will need  to arise a fulfilment that comes from an active mind, a healthy body,  and socially meaningful action.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This society creates deep, harsh poverty. Poverty of the mind, poverty of the heart.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Politeness  is everywhere. People can be shocked at the rudeness of someone and  share deep looks of contempt with strangers on the same bus. They will  not acknowledge a tramp sleeping between cardboard sheets behind a store  as a call for action. Because humans are like that. Creatures of habit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The  ceaseless reminders to shop are the most striking. Shopping is good for  the economy... Which one? The Chinese one? Eventually, you&#39;re getting  branded jeans for $99.99, Made in China and non branded jeans for $9.99,  Made in China. What&#39;s making the difference between the two: better  paid labour? Improved conditions of living for thousands? For whom? The  consumer gaining the benefits of a heightened sexiness factor or the  worker reaping the gains of better wages resulting in higher standards  of living for his child (because children it isn&#39;t). And if it is the  latter, what is that standard of living going to turn his child into? A  consumer of someone else&#39;s labour? Whose?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Advertising  in the Toronto subway and magazines ranks in popularity as follows:  redesign your face (or rejuvenate your face), continuing education to  gain employment (presumably to afford consumption that will keep the  economy healthy), protecting yourself against the flu by staying away  from anyone who has it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Food portions are huge  everywhere. People in public transport range from the fashionably thinly  dressed to the bulky oversized folk. Grey is the predominant shade. My  soul seeks the pockets of colour on wide, wide streets.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How weird we must look to Martians.&quot;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/6212128448562905521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/6212128448562905521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/6212128448562905521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/6212128448562905521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/06/notes-from-newly-landed-in-toronto_03.html' title='Notes from a newly-landed in Toronto'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-8322569439152033100</id><published>2011-06-02T11:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T17:03:00.636-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Art"/><title type='text'>Klein blue</title><content type='html'>This is the blue I&#39;ve been obsessed with for quite some time now. Just full of wonder.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.yveskleinarchives.org/works/large/ikb45.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;146&quot; src=&quot;http://www.yveskleinarchives.org/works/large/ikb45.jpg&quot; width=&quot;300&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Monochrome bleu sans titre (IKB 45), 1960, 27 x 46 cm.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here&#39;s a look at Yves Klein&#39;s &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.yveskleinarchives.org/works/works3_fr.html&quot;&gt;blue monochromes&lt;/a&gt;. A new square bearing his name will be inaugurated this week in Paris 14e. The colour above became known as &quot;International Klein Blue&quot; (IKB).&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/8322569439152033100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/8322569439152033100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/8322569439152033100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/8322569439152033100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/06/klein-blue.html' title='Klein blue'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-9039426195556356116</id><published>2011-06-01T21:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T17:04:59.032-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Words"/><title type='text'>Summer</title><content type='html'>I had never before made the link between Sanskrit/Hindi &lt;i&gt;sama&lt;/i&gt; and summer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;summer (1)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;hot season of the year,&quot; O.E. &lt;i&gt;sumor&lt;/i&gt;, from P.Gmc. *&lt;i&gt;sumur&lt;/i&gt;- (cf. O.S., O.N., O.H.G. &lt;i&gt;sumar&lt;/i&gt;, O.Fris. &lt;i&gt;sumur&lt;/i&gt;, M.Du. &lt;i&gt;somer&lt;/i&gt;, Du. &lt;i&gt;zomer&lt;/i&gt;, Ger. &lt;i&gt;Sommer&lt;/i&gt;), from PIE base *&lt;i&gt;sem&lt;/i&gt;- (cf. Skt. &lt;i&gt;sama &lt;/i&gt;&quot;season, half-year,&quot; Avestan &lt;i&gt;hama&lt;/i&gt; &quot;in summer,&quot; Armenian &lt;i&gt;amarn&lt;/i&gt; &quot;summer,&quot; O.Ir. &lt;i&gt;sam&lt;/i&gt;, O.Welsh &lt;i&gt;ham&lt;/i&gt;, Welsh &lt;i&gt;haf&lt;/i&gt; &quot;summer&quot;). O.N. &lt;i&gt;sumarsdag&lt;/i&gt;, first day of summer, was the Thursday that fell between April 9 and 15. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Summer camp&lt;/i&gt; is attested from 1893; &lt;i&gt;summer resort&lt;/i&gt; is from 1832; &lt;i&gt;summer school&lt;/i&gt; first recorded 1860; theatrical &lt;i&gt;summer stock&lt;/i&gt; is attested from 1942.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Indian summer&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;spell of warm weather after the first frost,&quot; first recorded 1778, Amer.Eng., perhaps so called because it was first noted in regions inhabited by Indians, or because the Indians first described it to the Europeans. No evidence connects it with the color of fall leaves or a season of Indian attacks on settlements. It is the Amer.Eng. version of British All-Hallows summer, Fr. été de la Saint-Martin (feast day Nov. 11), etc. Also colloquial was St. Luke&#39;s summer (or little summer), period of warm weather occurring about St. Luke&#39;s day (Oct. 18).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.etymonline.com/abbr.php&quot;&gt;List of abbreviations.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
- &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.etymonline.com/&quot;&gt;Online Etymology Dictionary&lt;/a&gt; -&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Dog days&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
–&lt;i&gt;noun&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
1. the sultry part of the summer, supposed to occur during the period that Sirius, the dog Star, rises at the same time as the sun: now often reckoned from July 3 to August 11.&lt;br /&gt;
2. a period marked by lethargy, inactivity, or indolence. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And, interestingly,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Canicula&lt;/b&gt;  (kəˈnɪkjʊlə)&lt;br /&gt;
— &lt;i&gt;noun&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
another name for Sirius&lt;br /&gt;
[Latin, literally: little dog, from canis  dog] &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Footnote:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;&quot;It is often forgotten that (dictionaries) are artificial&lt;br /&gt;
repositories, put together well after the languages they&lt;br /&gt;
define. The roots of language are irrational and of a&lt;br /&gt;
magical nature.&quot;&lt;/blockquote&gt;-Jorge Luis Borges, Prologue to &quot;El otro, el mismo.&quot;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/9039426195556356116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/9039426195556356116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/9039426195556356116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/9039426195556356116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/06/summer.html' title='Summer'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-2627755047852378039</id><published>2011-05-31T10:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T17:05:19.402-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Words"/><title type='text'>A French poem about summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;L&#39;été à Coutances&lt;/b&gt;, &lt;i&gt;Victor Hugo&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ah ! l&#39;équinoxe cherche noise&lt;br /&gt;
Au solstice, et ce juin charmant&lt;br /&gt;
Nous offre une bise sournoise ;&lt;br /&gt;
L&#39;été de Neustrie est normand !&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Notre été chicane et querelle ;&lt;br /&gt;
Son sourire aime à nous leurrer ;&lt;br /&gt;
Il se, rétracte ; il tonne, il grêle ;&lt;br /&gt;
Il pleut, manière de pleurer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mais qu&#39;importe ! entre deux orages,&lt;br /&gt;
Ses rayons glissent, fiers vainqueurs,&lt;br /&gt;
Et la pourpre est dans les nuages,&lt;br /&gt;
Et le triomphe est dans les coeurs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cette grande herbe est mon empire.&lt;br /&gt;
Je suis l&#39;amant mystérieux&lt;br /&gt;
De l&#39;âme obscure qui soupire&lt;br /&gt;
Au fond des bois, au fond des cieux !&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Je suis roi chez les fleurs vermeilles.&lt;br /&gt;
Quelle extase d&#39;être mêlé&lt;br /&gt;
Aux oiseaux, aux vents, aux abeilles,&lt;br /&gt;
Au vague essor du monde ailé !&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
L&#39;arbre creux vous offre une chaise ;&lt;br /&gt;
L&#39;iris vous suit de son oeil bleu ;&lt;br /&gt;
On contemple ; il semble qu&#39;on baise&lt;br /&gt;
Le bord de la robe de Dieu.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Source: http://www.poesie-francaise.fr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/2627755047852378039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/2627755047852378039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/2627755047852378039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/2627755047852378039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/french-poem-about-summer.html' title='A French poem about summer'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-7623305233945631269</id><published>2011-05-31T10:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-31T10:31:18.651-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The first of summer</title><content type='html'>It is 32˚C in Toronto. Finally.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/7623305233945631269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/7623305233945631269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/7623305233945631269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/7623305233945631269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/first-of-summer.html' title='The first of summer'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-1535614221067982108</id><published>2011-05-30T18:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T18:42:01.566-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeds Awry</title><content type='html'>A small note to my feeds subscribers: I know the feeds are acting up, I&#39;m not sure what&#39;s happening. I am trying to get Feedburner to get its act together, or to get mine together. Sorry.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/1535614221067982108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/1535614221067982108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/1535614221067982108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/1535614221067982108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/feeds-awry.html' title='Feeds Awry'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-4908172222383308904</id><published>2011-05-30T13:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T13:22:26.710-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Society"/><title type='text'>Of debit cards and such</title><content type='html'>Heard on the radio a couple of days ago:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Statistics show that Quebecers use debit cards for almost all their&lt;br /&gt;
purchases, a distinctly different behaviour from the rest of Canada.&lt;br /&gt;
The radio host ventures to guess why this is so:&lt;br /&gt;
1. Quebecers have no wish to see Her Majesty&#39;s face every time they use cash.&lt;br /&gt;
2. Quebecers don&#39;t approve of the fact that the notes are labelled in&lt;br /&gt;
English first, followed by French. (&lt;a
href=&quot;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charter_of_the_French_Language#Commerce_and_business&quot;&gt;Bill 101.&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/4908172222383308904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/4908172222383308904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/4908172222383308904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/4908172222383308904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/of-debit-cards-and-such.html' title='Of debit cards and such'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-3811562603371809172</id><published>2011-05-29T08:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-29T12:45:20.413-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Art"/><title type='text'>Hindi films recommendations</title><content type='html'>So, the &lt;a href=&quot;http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/who-wants-to-watch-hindi-film.html&quot;&gt;Hindi film evening&lt;/a&gt; went very well, and both my friends enjoyed the movie to the end. Here are some recommendations: I&#39;ve selected the ones that moved me, some made well before I was born, but which I discovered through my dad&#39;s relentless efforts to make us learn more about them. Additional suggestions are welcome.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Awaara (1951 - Raj Kapoor. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The tramp and the lady, where not everything is actually rosy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Teesri Manzil (1966) - Vijay Anand.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A thriller, with a love story, and Shammi Kapoor&#39;s crazy dance moves.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Abhimaan (1973) - Hrishikesh Mukherjee&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Two singers, husband and wife, and what happens when ego enters the equation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Sholay (1975) - Ramesh Sippy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The ultimate Indian Western movie: two close friends, bandits, revenge, love.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Silsila (1981) - Yash Chopra&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Love, duty, betrayal, passion.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Kaash (1987) - Mahesh Bhatt&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A husband and wife separate, with a child in the middle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Lamhe (1991) - Yash Chopra&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A movie that ended up being controversial for no reason, with a great love story.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Dilwale Dulhanie Le Jayenge (1995) - Aditya Chopra&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
THE love story par excellence: the beginning of Punjabi everything in Hindi films.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Virasat (1997) - Priyadarshan&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A young man returns from his studies abroad to a rural context that threatens to disrupt all his civilised lessons learnt.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Dil Se (1998) - Mani Ratnam&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Shocking, unexpected, heart-rending. No taboos, and no reason in love.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (1998) - Karan Johar&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sweet, fun and heart-skipping moments, particularly when you&#39;re a young girl dreaming of THE one.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Dil Chahta Hai (2001) - Farhan Akhtar&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The coming-of-age movie that marked a turning point in Hindi cinema for many of my generation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Lagaan (2001) - Ashutosh Gowariker&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A group of villagers fight for tax exemption from the British through a cricket game. Beautifully done.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Devdas (2002) - Sanjay Leela Bhansali&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Opera-like grandeur and excess, gorgeous costumes, a retake on a classic. Went to Cannes, a favourite of many French people I&#39;ve met.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Yuva (2004) - Mani Ratnam&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
India&#39;s youth represented by 3 very different characters whose lives somehow intersect on a bridge.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Black (2005) - Sanjay Leela Bhansali&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A pioneer movie in India. Bare emotions, great acting.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Taare Zameen Par (2007) - Aamir Khan&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A sweet story about a dyslexic boy and how he finds his place inside mainstream schooling.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Guru (2007) - Mani Ratnam&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Loosely based on Dhirubai Ambani&#39;s life: a powerful story with occasional slip-ups, but beautiful music and worth a watch.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;3 Idiots (2009) - Raj Kumar Hirani&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Adapted from Chetan Bhagat&#39;s &quot;Five Point Someone&quot;. Poignant in its description of a competitive, rote-learning society, with hope at the end. Also, great humour, love and songs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Band Baajaa Baraat (2010) - Maneesh Sharma&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
My favourite of 2010: New Delhi, lovable characters, great cinematography, fun and drama. Above all, total wedding dhamaka.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Peepli Live (2011) - Anusha Rizvi&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A satire on the government program that&#39;s been set up to compensate the family of the farmers who commit suicide every year because they can&#39;t repay their loans.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Dhobi Ghat (2011) - Kiran Rao&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Slice of life movie: 4 characters whose lives intersect in New Delhi, with a look at each one&#39;s soul-searching.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you reached the end of this list, maybe you&#39;re brave enough to attempt to watch some of them, even if you&#39;ve never seen a Hindi film before.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/3811562603371809172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/3811562603371809172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/3811562603371809172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/3811562603371809172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/hindi-films-recommendations.html' title='Hindi films recommendations'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-779987121281589611</id><published>2011-05-28T07:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T07:34:35.269-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Society"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Travel"/><title type='text'>France Explained</title><content type='html'>This hilarious post in my feeds this morning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some excerpts:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;&quot;France is a very old country with many treasures, such as the Louvre and Euro Disney.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Among its contributions to western civilization are champagne, Camembert cheese and the guillotine.&quot;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&quot;One continuing exasperation for American visitors is that local people insist on speaking in French, though many will speak English if shouted at.&quot;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&quot;American travelers are advised to travel in groups and wear baseball caps and colorful trousers for easy recognition.&quot;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&quot;SAFETY&lt;br /&gt;
In general, France is a safe destination, although travelers must be aware that from time to time it is invaded by Germany.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Traditionally, the French surrender immediately.&quot;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Source: &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.theparisblog.com/the-country-explained/&quot;&gt;The Paris Blog&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/779987121281589611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/779987121281589611' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/779987121281589611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/779987121281589611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/france-explained.html' title='France Explained'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-4391608332406824241</id><published>2011-05-27T09:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T07:30:35.740-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prism"/><title type='text'>Myopia and Impressionism</title><content type='html'>When you&#39;re very myopic, all you need to do at any time is remove your glasses and the world becomes an Impressionist painting. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As a kid at a long boring wedding ceremony, removing my specs made all the fairy lights turn into large bright drops, creating what I later learnt were bokeh-like effects. On a rainy day, a dreary grey landscape only needs a red umbrella and suddenly you&#39;re looking at an abstract masterpiece. The quirky (if slightly dangerous) thing too is that if you first see something without your glasses (e.g. waking from a nap), really familiar objects can, for a second, look totally different, launching your mind into new imaginings.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sitting in the bus behind a rain-spotted window, the changing effects are intriguing: it&#39;s the equivalent of setting your camera at its widest aperture on manual focus. With my specs on, I focus on infinity and the raindrops on the pain are almost unnoticeable. Without my specs, the focus is on the rain drops and the background becomes mere washes of colour. It&#39;s quite fun.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/4391608332406824241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/4391608332406824241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/4391608332406824241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/4391608332406824241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/myopia-and-impressionism.html' title='Myopia and Impressionism'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-5472798565244549538</id><published>2011-05-26T07:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T07:16:24.898-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Society"/><title type='text'>How does your country rank?</title><content type='html'>I don&#39;t mean here: &quot;What is its rank?&quot; on the latest trend of city and country surveys that pitch one against the other. Rather, how is this ranking being calculated, and does it work for you? This week, I&#39;m hearing about Canada having &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.theglobeandmail.com/report-on-business/top-business-stories/pursuit-of-happiness-canada-scores-high-on-oecd-index/article2032859/&quot;&gt;ranked 2nd&lt;/a&gt; on the happiness scale worldwide. &quot;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.oecd.org/dataoecd/11/50/38704149.pdf&quot;&gt;Happiness scale&lt;/a&gt;?&quot;, you say. Yes. The OECD Happiness scale. (Because apparently that&#39;s where we go to understand what happiness truly means). I do understand why Canada would rank high. This country is a truly wonderful place to live in. Given the increasing number of rankings being developed however (Monocle, The Economist and more), it is worth a deeper look into what factors into the decisions.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Below are extracts from an FT article questioning the matter:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;&quot;I spoke to Joel Kotkin, a professor of urban development, and asked him about these surveys. “I’ve been to Copenhagen,” (Monocle’s Number 2) he tells me “and it’s cute. But frankly, on the second day, I was wondering what to do.” So, if the results aren’t to his liking, what does he suggest? “We need to ask, what makes a city great? If your idea of a great city is restful, orderly, clean, then that’s fine. You can go live in a gated community. These kinds of cities are what is called ‘productive resorts’. Descartes, writing about 17th-century Amsterdam, said that a great city should be ‘an inventory of the possible’. I like that description.”&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;“The other big question,” says Kotkin, “is can someone coming from somewhere else improve themselves, reinvent themselves? Is there upward mobility?” The top cities score badly again. London and New York are magnets for immigrants precisely because they allow those kinds of new beginnings. They do have class structures but they are increasingly malleable.&quot;&lt;/blockquote&gt;-Edwin Heathcote,  &quot;Liveable vs lovable&quot;, &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/dd9bba18-769c-11e0-bd5d-00144feabdc0.html#ixzz1M91bmoWn&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Financial Times&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;i&gt;May 6, 2011&lt;/i&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The distinction between lovable and livable is a fair one. I would also find it more valuable to look to indices such as the Human Development Index and the Gini Coefficient.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;d rather let happiness reside in the realm of human possibilities than on an OECD list.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/5472798565244549538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/5472798565244549538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/5472798565244549538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/5472798565244549538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/how-does-your-country-rank.html' title='How does your country rank?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-5790321806444585606</id><published>2011-05-25T09:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T09:11:33.500-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Politics"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Society"/><title type='text'>The political power of religion</title><content type='html'>India&#39;s extreme-right RSS party is considering an alliance with Baba Ramdev, who himself has clear political ambitions:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;“The numbers have been worked out,” says a close associate of Ramdev. “On an average, we will have at least 50,000 people at the Ramlila grounds everyday till the dharna lasts. We have 80,000 yoga centres all over the country. People have been mobilised to participate in the fast and dharna all across these centres. Even if 10 people per centre come out and fast with us, we will have eight lakh people fasting everyday,” he adds. To that, factor in the 2.5 lakh panchayats that Baba Ramdev has been working on in the last two months, and you can see the numbers are staggering. “Village committees have been formed in these 2.5 lakh panchayats. That alone will give us 10 lakh supporters,” points out Baba Ramdev’s associate.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.outlookindia.com/article.aspx?271886&quot;&gt;Outlook India&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, &lt;i&gt;May 2011&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Personal Note:&lt;/i&gt; Your mind is yours alone. Never give it up to anyone.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/5790321806444585606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/5790321806444585606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/5790321806444585606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/5790321806444585606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/political-power-of-religion.html' title='The political power of religion'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-4169500190123367148</id><published>2011-05-24T09:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T09:32:04.728-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Who wants to watch a Hindi film?</title><content type='html'>If you ever give me the least chance, I&#39;ll make you watch a Hindi film. All you need to do is show a sliver of interest. My best experiments have been introducing Hindi films to people who had never seen one before.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With a Quebecer friend of mine, we went to see &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmV_kWtkbPI&amp;feature=fvsr&quot;&gt;Devdas&lt;/a&gt; (2002) in Montreal. I don&#39;t assume that everyone will be as impressed as I am, so I always offer the option of leaving half-way through, or, if we&#39;re watching it at home, to stop and do something else. Devdas is a particularly heavy film. She was completely gripped by it. At one point she was moved to tears. In that theatre, in a totally unexpected way, we found common ground. She didn&#39;t have to ever watch another one. I&#39;ll always remember that she was able to let go of her pre-conceived notions long enough to open herself to the experience.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two years ago, when L&#39;s 19-year old cousin visited from Paris, I suggested we watch &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PeKGl3aeG5k&quot;&gt;Dhoom 2&lt;/a&gt;. She enjoyed it, and even introduced her mum to the music when she went back!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
More recently, a French friend of ours suggested I bring a Hindi film for the evening. I chose &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k67ErU7SeIE&quot;&gt;Band Baajaa Baaraat&lt;/a&gt;. We had great fun. I also then discovered she had spent one month in India, loved it and would like to go again. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This week, I&#39;m giving it another try with two girlfriends. We&#39;ll make a night of it, with Indian food. It can be as fascinating to me to hear how others feel about a Hindi film as as it is to watch the film itself. And often, if it doesn&#39;t work with one film, it could always work with another.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PS: In case you&#39;re wondering, the films are always subtitled in English.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/4169500190123367148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/4169500190123367148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/4169500190123367148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/4169500190123367148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/who-wants-to-watch-hindi-film.html' title='Who wants to watch a Hindi film?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-4475389155790333430</id><published>2011-05-23T10:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T10:59:38.541-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hindi cinema&#39;s long song-and-dance to now</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;This is an update of a post I wrote in 2004. It still holds.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
---&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Indian cinema is going through several evolutions. While glitter and glam will likely always figure in Hindi films (and the world is a more beautiful place for it), the art is moving towards bringing formerly &quot;arthouse&quot; films into the mainstream and younger directors are making films that reflect their truth.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One landmark for my generation was &lt;i&gt;Dil Chahta Hai&lt;/i&gt;: a plot that was less linear, but that went deeper in character development while still catering to the &#39;commercial&#39; crowd, a film made by then 26-year old Farhan Akhtar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Many stereotype Hindi cinema for its actors running around trees. Yes, of course! There&#39;s room for that. But there&#39;s more to the industry or to the art. Here&#39;s my take on it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The 50s and 60s saw some of the best cinema: black and white studies of the common man (at that time &lt;i&gt;Awaara&lt;/i&gt; or &lt;i&gt;Shree 420&lt;/i&gt;), the naïvety of love through graceful, subtle looks and sobre sarees and dhotis or suits. Raj Kapoor being one of those I watched, his films had messages about human nature, corruption, temptation, some of the less cheery shades of humanity. There was the one and only Satyajit Ray.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The 70s witnessed Raj Kapoor at films again, but directing other actors, and going for choli-less chokris in white sarees, the precursors to today&#39;s vixens! Colour everywhere, and candy-flavoured stories. The full-blown tree-scampering, the puffed-up hair and some very quirky music. Some of R.D. Burman&#39;s best music, and rarer but successful incursions into deep stories. The 70s also gave us &lt;i&gt;Sholay&lt;/i&gt;, a must-see of Indian cinema, along with scores of films featuring the lanky, handsome Amitabh Bachchan. Films where the working-class hero fought for his people against the oppressor: full-swing Socialism. The fights were absurd, the heroines mere decoration and the hero&#39;s mother tearful. The Feminists hated it, the Leftists loved it. Adorno would have at least liked it more than what followed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The 80s, decade of disco, crimped hair and just plain dismay, except for the music. Saree-clad heroines finding more creative ways of running around trees, minus the social issues. The hair was bad, the clothes were bad, the make-up quite quite horrible, the hero&#39;s mother blind and tearful, the mother-in-law wicked. The music sometimes came above the lot, and some of the best songs we hum today come from then.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The 90s offered a mixed lot. The first half probably still reeked quite strongly of the nasty 80s things, but more of the American 80s (which is no great relief). And the middle and end of the decade gave us &lt;i&gt;Chandni&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;Lamhe&lt;/i&gt;, films which, if not political, were at least less caricaturing. The hero&#39;s mother could now smile, she could even be cool.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Leaping to the 2000s, the early years of the decade moved the industry through fast paces. The quality of film-making went up, in part due to swelling budgets, and in part due to talent and competition. But gone were the days of out and out socialist recriminations. If the blue-collar worker used to go to the theatre to watch his hero fight his cause and come out of it still facing his real world, now he went to watch the hero fight another class&#39; cause: he saw Devdas in opera-like proportions, and &lt;i&gt;Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham&lt;/i&gt; where people own private helicopters. The mothers rivalled with their heroine-daughters in looks, style and even dance!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Of course India&#39;s (upper) middle class had grown, so much so apparently that the whole Yash Chopra school of film-making condemned heroes to have at least five Ferraris and heroines to only wear designer creations. The gawkiness had gone out of most films, and so had the sense. I love a corny Hindi film as much as the next person. But there was no intelligent meaning to be extracted: just put your brains on &quot;luxury pause&quot; for three hours.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Since the late 2000s, I feel the industry has evolved for the better. Mani Ratnam&#39;s incisive (Tamil-dubbed-in-Hindi) cinema is a saving grace. Aamir Khan has made interesting choices for the films he produces. Younger film-makers are showing that you don&#39;t always need to shoot the NRIs: Indians have a life worth recounting too. Yes, always against the backdrop of Indian music and songs. It &lt;i&gt;does&lt;/i&gt; actually make sense to me that actors and actresses should suddenly break into a ditty (or an elaborate production) in the middle of nowhere. Ever heard of &quot;suspension of disbelief&quot;? But music is also being used in more creative ways.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To me, modernising Hindi films means going back to some of the original essence while reflecting today&#39;s diverse reality. It does not mean getting rid of the song and dance, drama or strong emotions. Sometimes, too sleek is just too dead. The next few years should bring more ideas and techniques forward, including new stories. Lots to look forward to...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
---&lt;br /&gt;
PS: I speak here of the films that make it to the multiplexes and some of the smaller budget well-known ones. Parallel to those, Hindi films are produced in thousands each year, with their share of low-end duds, as in all other film industries.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/4475389155790333430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/4475389155790333430' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/4475389155790333430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/4475389155790333430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/hindi-cinemas-long-song-and-dance-to.html' title='Hindi cinema&#39;s long song-and-dance to now'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-7360351503241403494</id><published>2011-05-22T11:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T11:19:38.969-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Favourite moment</title><content type='html'>One of my favourites moments in the week is Sunday morning. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love waking up early, in a quiet house. Real freedom to me is being up with the open question: what shall we do? In those two hours, all is still with the world. A few birds twitter far off, the tall tree outside our window sways its branches mutely, the house makes its own silence. Your mind is a blank canvas and the best thoughts stroll in.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then slowly, the first stirrings begin. A few more vehicles start fading into the noise, whizzing by on the street below. A child&#39;s high pitch chatter reaches you as her mother takes her to an art class. Some elderly voices come through as they congregate to one of the multiple churches. Two squirrels scamper up and around the tree trunk.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Your stomach rumbles and says, time for breakfast. Let&#39;s wake everyone up!&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/7360351503241403494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/7360351503241403494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/7360351503241403494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/7360351503241403494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/favourite-moment.html' title='Favourite moment'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-8315339191471763149</id><published>2011-05-21T08:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T15:55:34.739-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Photography"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Travel"/><title type='text'>Discovering the Rockies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;color: grey;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia,Times Roman;&quot;&gt;Our first visit to the Rockies. This is how breath-takingly beautiful it is:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: grey;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia,Times Roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2lpqrU8Nk0xG7lKdB-sQpkbCyK0igNkEYip3jdGfj8nXsfFK2ULCPQC_AyIotGNv_PygUO8SfC8i-K_UgCiMycIzqZ0pCxLvIRxAU6GPiq84ERUGZFXegwI_MXGhFIiY7n4gI/s1600/Rockies+and+Lake.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2lpqrU8Nk0xG7lKdB-sQpkbCyK0igNkEYip3jdGfj8nXsfFK2ULCPQC_AyIotGNv_PygUO8SfC8i-K_UgCiMycIzqZ0pCxLvIRxAU6GPiq84ERUGZFXegwI_MXGhFIiY7n4gI/s320/Rockies+and+Lake.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;span style=&quot;color: grey;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Georgia,Times Roman;&quot;&gt;It inspired awe, peace and surrender to the wonder of our planet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/8315339191471763149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/8315339191471763149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/8315339191471763149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/8315339191471763149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/discovering-rockies.html' title='Discovering the Rockies'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2lpqrU8Nk0xG7lKdB-sQpkbCyK0igNkEYip3jdGfj8nXsfFK2ULCPQC_AyIotGNv_PygUO8SfC8i-K_UgCiMycIzqZ0pCxLvIRxAU6GPiq84ERUGZFXegwI_MXGhFIiY7n4gI/s72-c/Rockies+and+Lake.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-8493368194411802424</id><published>2011-05-20T08:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T08:07:48.401-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The DSK debacle</title><content type='html'>Everyone has known for a while, of course. If it is true that he molested the woman in question, the saddest thing is what happened to her.&lt;br /&gt;
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The next saddest thing though, is the society that allowed this man to believe that his behaviour was normal, that he could aspire to lead the Socialist Party despite well-documented slip-ups and misbehaviour, and that he somehow deserved deferential treatment irrespective of how he acted.&lt;br /&gt;
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It presents critical questions for France about where it draws the line between flirting and offending, daring and aggressing, persuading and forcing. &lt;br /&gt;
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This event also brings me back to the question that always remains for me: are Clinton, Schwarzenegger, Edwards, Strauss-Kahn all samples of one personality type that allowed the illusion of their omnipotence to cloud their judgment? Or are they simply as human as anyone, and does that darkness lurk inside each of us, demanding to be reined in each day by our values and beliefs and choices?&lt;br /&gt;
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Further relevant reflections in this &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/may/16/dominique-strauss-khan-arrest-france&quot;&gt;Guardian&lt;/a&gt; article.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/8493368194411802424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/8493368194411802424' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/8493368194411802424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/8493368194411802424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/dsk-debacle.html' title='The DSK debacle'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6772067.post-6946359787035892005</id><published>2011-05-19T22:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T22:47:18.444-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Toronto in Spring</title><content type='html'>After three weeks of relentless rain and grey, blue sky is finally reminding us that it exists. The stretch from the stop to my house smells of blooming lilac. While some bare toes are making their way onto the streets, the majority of us spent the wet days in this attire.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw2jeUs0pZ4EaVhypke4Odb_JEvrA7fHAUa-d9D0TEV7FQ1nl1PERUakl6xccRLCAdeISDY9sCUMMPDKu4RGWt7gBpgvrq7VAOoA5b2gzmBcgCAWmkAROQFLsLFSygMvQhnIRT/s1600/Toronto+Girl004.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;214&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw2jeUs0pZ4EaVhypke4Odb_JEvrA7fHAUa-d9D0TEV7FQ1nl1PERUakl6xccRLCAdeISDY9sCUMMPDKu4RGWt7gBpgvrq7VAOoA5b2gzmBcgCAWmkAROQFLsLFSygMvQhnIRT/s320/Toronto+Girl004.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Rubber boots, the same ones used by planters in Mauritius and by anyone who usually does garden work, are all the rage here. And when it&#39;s drizzling and there are puddles everywhere, style is secondary. The best deal is when practical is suddenly redefined as stylish. Thank you Kate Moss for making it normal that we now traipse about town with boots that my grandma would not be caught dead in. Totally unlady-like, but SO cozy.&lt;br /&gt;
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And they work super well when you need to walk into an icy lake, as you so often have to, you know?&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;© All rights reserved.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/feeds/6946359787035892005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6772067/6946359787035892005' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/6946359787035892005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6772067/posts/default/6946359787035892005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cubiksrube.blogspot.com/2011/05/toronto-in-spring.html' title='Toronto in Spring'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw2jeUs0pZ4EaVhypke4Odb_JEvrA7fHAUa-d9D0TEV7FQ1nl1PERUakl6xccRLCAdeISDY9sCUMMPDKu4RGWt7gBpgvrq7VAOoA5b2gzmBcgCAWmkAROQFLsLFSygMvQhnIRT/s72-c/Toronto+Girl004.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>