Risking the wrath of certain feminist friends of mine, I'm typing this with my tail between my legs and pulse quivering. But the thing is, I'm chuckling just thinking about what's on the tip of my fingers, and anything worth a chuckle is always worth a post.
Coincidences, a mass case of bad luck, or just a bad year - a large number of us (us = me and my girlfriends) over the course of the first few months of this year have suddenly found ourselves 'bitterly' single. I hate to admit to being bitter over a break-up, but I'll admit for me and my other girls that yes, we are very bitter. The rancor easily arises when there's another woman involved. And a lot of us have been cheated on, so there are broken prides and bitter hearts all around.
And in the midst of all this, we try to be there for each other and comfort each other. 'My boyfriend was rottener,' 'But mine was gayer' ... downplaying each other's sense of loss and at the same time, adding to (screwing up?) our vocabularies. Us girls are good that way, being there for each other and passing the tissues around and creating new, no-worder words.
And when you get a lot of free, bored, single women together, you get a lot of those things called 'Girls' Night Out.' Because we balk, yes, us brave girls who fearlessly tackle merciless deadlines and tantrum-throwing clients, actually balk at the prospect of going home and stepping foot inside empty apartments. And we turn up at a lot of places we never would've turned up otherwise if empty apartments didn't intimidate us so much...
So we turn up here and there all over this ferocious jungle and we order our drinks and kiss each other's cheeks and give the meanest stares to any guy who dare to let a straying eye wander our side. And you don't want to see the scorn with which we trample the poor, few intrepid souls who dare to actually approach us and hope to join us - hoping to be included in the table, the conversation or the dance! It's a good thing those poor souls can't hear the volley of expletives and uncomplimentary adjectives and nouns generously thrown after them behind their backs.
And we sit there, the high priestesses of heartbreak, undiluted, unpolluted and talk about the more important stuffs life has to offer because we have no time for petty, stupid, childish stuffs like romance. We talk about important stuffs like -
- how much a half-boiled egg costs in Russia 'in Russian Roubles'...
- or if we'd like to sit on a lemon tree. And if yes, which branch we'd like to sit on, top, middle or bottom branch...
- how much we'd like to have a butler like Jeeves...
- trying to figure out the science behind the disco lights. 'Yes, I think a double convex lens!'
- arguing about who's gayer - Batman or Superman. (My bet's on Batman by the way. What do you think? I think Robin explains it all. Anyway, I'm taking votes. My friends are biased, they are way too fond of the Batsuit and the Batmobile to vote for him over Superman whose costume isn't quite as attractive as Batman's.)
- which divine member of Il Divo we'd most like to spend a night with. (Carlos Marín, Carlos Marín, Carlos Marín!)
- what's cooler - besides the ones in our rooms - the ability to walk through walls or the ability to see through them...
Yeah, deep stuffs.
So we amuse ourselves this way for a couple of hours at the most. And then, we all start to get a little listless and I, being an open speaker of mind, usually am the first to finally blurt out that I am very envious of the couple very obviously in love sitting all draped over, around, above and beyond each other in the corner. A little sickening but still envious. And one XXian tells me to shut up.
'Feel sorry for her. The guy's probably cheating on her and the dumb chick has no inkling of it..' she says.
'We don't need any member of the species called men. We're happy without them. Our lives are complete, we function better, we are rid of one of life's little clutters.' One XXian says. We all join in and chirp about how happy we are without them and how well we sleep and how we don't wake up in the middle of the night anymore - alone and missing those rotten liars.
So back to Russian Roubles and Romanian leus. Back to the history of mankind and the electric bulb and the flat iron. I'll let you in on a little secret - we act confident and proud and touch-me-not-y, I swear if you walk in and see us sitting there, on our high chairs and with high-heeled feet and legs confidently crossed, I'll bet even a poor actress like me would fool you. But our eyes hungrily roam around the room looking for ex-boyfriend, and when in the right mood, even a possible replacer...And no matter how hard-boiled we look, one right word or action and I'd be spilling my heart out and calling you master. And I'm pretty sure my friends are no different.
But we keep up the pretense.
'Men will soon be obsolete. With cloning, we can wipe them off the face of this earth. Haha.' says one XXian.
'Haha. Super. Haha' I say.
'Yay! Let's wipe Y out, we'll have only XX, no more dirty Ys in the Xs. Haha' pipes in the rest.
In girlish enthusiasm, we call a couple of XYs and warn them of their impending doom.
'Your shelf life is almost over. Find a religion, make your peace with God. Haha.' we tell them.
'C'mon ladies, the world won't be half as fun without us' he says.
We 'bleh-eh' him and hang up.
Talk some more about John Wilkes Booth and Nathuram Godse and the coral snake and the Greek Islands and the natural vegetation of Mizoram. Inside, I miss ex and me's nonsense, non-intelligent chatters. And I wonder how long I'm going to be able to fake this. Then, a small voice, whose owner I couldn't identify, says 'You know, he's right.'
'Who? Nathuram Godse?'
'Nah, XY of the recent phone call.'
And here, we usually split - No-more-guys Vs Gimme-them. But they're my friends and I know them well and I know inside, both groups equally miss those bastards. And that XY-of-the-recent-phone-call is right after all. It's just no fun without them. Lousy SOBs though they may be, they make putting on makeup and buying nice dresses and shoes and smelling good so much more funner (er..no worder again?).
So in the end we all agree and we leave the jungle house with a general love for all mankind in our hearts.
We wait for a rick/taxi to wave down and we hear a voice behind us -
'Hey babes, want a lift?' - the geeky looking head to whom the geeky-sounding voice belongs to says, showing us for what reason I can't fathom, the 'rock-on' sign, also called the satanic hand sign, also called the brim.
We have love for mankind now so we politely say 'No thanks :-) *smile*'
'Then how about a nice long drive?'
'No thanks!!'
'Then how about we just chill? How about it babes?'
'Listen we said NO! Why don't you just fuck off jerk??'
**sigh** Vicious love-hate cycle this!
07 May 2007
30 April 2007
How Rude!
I don't claim to be exceptionally well-mannered. I don't hold my pinky finger out when I take a sip from my teacup. But that doesn't mean I'm going to lap my tea from the saucer.
I may not be extremely kind or polite, but aside from PMS days, bad hair days, and quality-review days and my reviewer's just told me that I've made one or several errors, I think I'm a pretty laid-back person. But there are some things which people do that bug the life out of me, makes the veins on my neck stand out and my eyeballs bulge out of their sockets and bring out the Miss Hyde in me.
1. I hate people who stare. Hate them with a passion. I've been moaning all my life about how much I hate these people. I wonder if there's anyone alive who hate these people as vehemently as I do.
People who stare. Not like they admire your hair/shirt/bag/shoes/you OR do-I-know-her-stare. But like they want to put you on a petri dish and push you under the microscope.
'Where did this strange-looking creature come from?' they seem to think as they rudely stare full into your face. 'Maybe if I stare hard enough, I'll unravel her DNA.'
'Check out strange-looking creature's strange-looking hair!' One ugly mug whispered to an even uglier mug, and they both stare and then giggle. And I stare back in all my wrath - making three ugly mugs staring the lives out of each other. And I'd so badly want to bash their heads together and spill whatever matter they have for brains on the pavement and let the crows eat it up. (I know, I may be officially homicidal).
Then there are the painfully self-righteous mothers with oily scalps and yellow fingernails who look you up and down like it would be a sin for them not to give mean stares to mean girls, ..ahem, women with torn jeans or clad in any other piece of fabric that isn't at least several yards long.
'I'm glad you're not my son's girlfriend. I'm glad you're not my daughter-in-law.' She'd evilly think.
'I'm sure glad my boyfriend doesn't have a mom like you. I feel sorry for your daughter-in-law.' I'd think back with an even more evil toss of my hair.
Really. It's just the most annoying thing anyone can do. There are always going to be reasons to stare. I'm going to look at you and want to look closer for some reason or the other sometimes, but that doesn't mean I'm going to. That cluster of zit on your forehead might be a subject that cries out for closer inspection, but I will not because you're human too and staring makes people uncomfortable and it's rude to stare and it's just plain not right to stare at people and..oh you know what I'm trying to say.
In an unfortunate case of a staring-attack, the best thing to do is retaliate. This is not something silently seething about can help. Stare back. With all the intrigue and appalling wonder you can muster - 'Look Ma! A starer!! Wait until I get home and tell my friends I saw a starer. Wow! A living, breathing starer!'
*warning* Starers are not often easily-subdued. In the same way that they seem to think staring at people is okay, they also seem to not mind people staring at them. So be ready to be 'up-stared,' 'out-stared,' or even, 'down-stared.'
And the worst thing is that they're everywhere! Out on the streets, parks, buses, at the movie halls where they'll make you think that the movie is being shown on the outside of your frontal lobe.
If things don't get better, as much as I admire the man, I may have to go against Gandhi's passive resistance policy and start arming myself with wooden prongs and table forks. To poke the offenders in their transgressing eyes with.
Or maybe just learn some Shaolin-style, eye-gouging hand moves.
'Stare at me and you lose an eye.'
Or even better -
'An eye for a stare, buster!'
That kind of retaliation. Not just peacefully staring back.
2. There's a girl I know who thinks she's royalty, I'm tempted to think, because of the way she never acknowledges me when I hold the door open for her. I hate people who never say "Thank you" when you hold the door open for them. No matter how 'door-mansy' I may look, I still am not the doorman.
And if I hold the door open out of courtesy, it would be nice if you don't act like it's because I think I'm your subordinate and that you're so superiorly rich or superiorly beautiful or superiorly intelligent or superiorly talented or superiorly classy or generally superior that I'm doing it. I hold it open because that's what I've always done. (I've been known to hold it open for dogs and rats too. I hold it open for a rotten rat almost every day).
In fact, I don't think I even do it out of being good-mannered, but because it's become a reflex to me now. I walk in, see someone behind me..'Oh no, it's her! Don't hold it open, she's going to ignore you and just walk in and away like you were paid to hold the door open for her' - small voice in my head screams. But I still hold it open. I hold it before I even realise I'm holding it. Kick myself kick myself kick myself. Darn. She did it again.
What makes her think she can just royally glide in and disappear. Because next time instead of just 'holding' the door, I'm going to smash it into that royal head.
***sigh*** Feels so good letting off steam. Now wouldn't it be lovely if my starers and royal door gliders could read this and see the light? And wouldn't it be nice if I could really go and smash that door into her precious crown...
I may not be extremely kind or polite, but aside from PMS days, bad hair days, and quality-review days and my reviewer's just told me that I've made one or several errors, I think I'm a pretty laid-back person. But there are some things which people do that bug the life out of me, makes the veins on my neck stand out and my eyeballs bulge out of their sockets and bring out the Miss Hyde in me.
1. I hate people who stare. Hate them with a passion. I've been moaning all my life about how much I hate these people. I wonder if there's anyone alive who hate these people as vehemently as I do.
People who stare. Not like they admire your hair/shirt/bag/shoes/you OR do-I-know-her-stare. But like they want to put you on a petri dish and push you under the microscope.
'Where did this strange-looking creature come from?' they seem to think as they rudely stare full into your face. 'Maybe if I stare hard enough, I'll unravel her DNA.'
'Check out strange-looking creature's strange-looking hair!' One ugly mug whispered to an even uglier mug, and they both stare and then giggle. And I stare back in all my wrath - making three ugly mugs staring the lives out of each other. And I'd so badly want to bash their heads together and spill whatever matter they have for brains on the pavement and let the crows eat it up. (I know, I may be officially homicidal).
Then there are the painfully self-righteous mothers with oily scalps and yellow fingernails who look you up and down like it would be a sin for them not to give mean stares to mean girls, ..ahem, women with torn jeans or clad in any other piece of fabric that isn't at least several yards long.
'I'm glad you're not my son's girlfriend. I'm glad you're not my daughter-in-law.' She'd evilly think.
'I'm sure glad my boyfriend doesn't have a mom like you. I feel sorry for your daughter-in-law.' I'd think back with an even more evil toss of my hair.
Really. It's just the most annoying thing anyone can do. There are always going to be reasons to stare. I'm going to look at you and want to look closer for some reason or the other sometimes, but that doesn't mean I'm going to. That cluster of zit on your forehead might be a subject that cries out for closer inspection, but I will not because you're human too and staring makes people uncomfortable and it's rude to stare and it's just plain not right to stare at people and..oh you know what I'm trying to say.
In an unfortunate case of a staring-attack, the best thing to do is retaliate. This is not something silently seething about can help. Stare back. With all the intrigue and appalling wonder you can muster - 'Look Ma! A starer!! Wait until I get home and tell my friends I saw a starer. Wow! A living, breathing starer!'
*warning* Starers are not often easily-subdued. In the same way that they seem to think staring at people is okay, they also seem to not mind people staring at them. So be ready to be 'up-stared,' 'out-stared,' or even, 'down-stared.'
And the worst thing is that they're everywhere! Out on the streets, parks, buses, at the movie halls where they'll make you think that the movie is being shown on the outside of your frontal lobe.
If things don't get better, as much as I admire the man, I may have to go against Gandhi's passive resistance policy and start arming myself with wooden prongs and table forks. To poke the offenders in their transgressing eyes with.
Or maybe just learn some Shaolin-style, eye-gouging hand moves.
'Stare at me and you lose an eye.'
Or even better -
'An eye for a stare, buster!'
That kind of retaliation. Not just peacefully staring back.
2. There's a girl I know who thinks she's royalty, I'm tempted to think, because of the way she never acknowledges me when I hold the door open for her. I hate people who never say "Thank you" when you hold the door open for them. No matter how 'door-mansy' I may look, I still am not the doorman.
And if I hold the door open out of courtesy, it would be nice if you don't act like it's because I think I'm your subordinate and that you're so superiorly rich or superiorly beautiful or superiorly intelligent or superiorly talented or superiorly classy or generally superior that I'm doing it. I hold it open because that's what I've always done. (I've been known to hold it open for dogs and rats too. I hold it open for a rotten rat almost every day).
In fact, I don't think I even do it out of being good-mannered, but because it's become a reflex to me now. I walk in, see someone behind me..'Oh no, it's her! Don't hold it open, she's going to ignore you and just walk in and away like you were paid to hold the door open for her' - small voice in my head screams. But I still hold it open. I hold it before I even realise I'm holding it. Kick myself kick myself kick myself. Darn. She did it again.
What makes her think she can just royally glide in and disappear. Because next time instead of just 'holding' the door, I'm going to smash it into that royal head.
***sigh*** Feels so good letting off steam. Now wouldn't it be lovely if my starers and royal door gliders could read this and see the light? And wouldn't it be nice if I could really go and smash that door into her precious crown...
26 April 2007
Great Places to Work 2006
Meant to do this earlier but it's never too late.
Am very excited to see Google top the charts on Business World's great places to work. Will mention the top 10 on the list here:
1. RMSI, Noida (1992)
2. Classic Stripes, Mumbai (1987)
3. Google India (2004) YAYY!!!!!!
4. Federal Express, Mumbai (1997)
5. Marriott International (1999) (Am actually surprised to see a hotel industry up here..)
6. Mindtree Consulting, Bangalore (1999)
7. NTPC, New Delhi (2002)
8. SAP Labs India, Bangalore (1998)
9. American Express India, New Delhi (2002)
10. Freescale Semiconductors India, Noida (2004)
More.
Am very excited to see Google top the charts on Business World's great places to work. Will mention the top 10 on the list here:
1. RMSI, Noida (1992)
2. Classic Stripes, Mumbai (1987)
3. Google India (2004) YAYY!!!!!!
4. Federal Express, Mumbai (1997)
5. Marriott International (1999) (Am actually surprised to see a hotel industry up here..)
6. Mindtree Consulting, Bangalore (1999)
7. NTPC, New Delhi (2002)
8. SAP Labs India, Bangalore (1998)
9. American Express India, New Delhi (2002)
10. Freescale Semiconductors India, Noida (2004)
More.
From My Archives
I love old pictures, but there's never enough of them. Had to crop these up and stuff so that they'd be view-able.
That's my bow-legged cousin Madinga and Me. Check out my knee-low drawers :)
And that is Unreal and her mom...
And that's me and my mother. I still remember this dress, cousin Unreal swears she remembers it too. She says she 'thinks' I used to wear it all the time...
That's my Sister Esther. I don't understand how she was the one with curly hair when we were kids and I had very good, very straight hair and now she's the one with the straight hair and I'm stuck with the curls!?!
And Unreal again with cousin M.Ch-a.
My mom and Esther again. She was also the one with the stomach! :P
This is Esther now. She hasn't changed except for the hair that's longer now :D
That's my bow-legged cousin Madinga and Me. Check out my knee-low drawers :)
And that is Unreal and her mom...
And that's me and my mother. I still remember this dress, cousin Unreal swears she remembers it too. She says she 'thinks' I used to wear it all the time...
That's my Sister Esther. I don't understand how she was the one with curly hair when we were kids and I had very good, very straight hair and now she's the one with the straight hair and I'm stuck with the curls!?!
And Unreal again with cousin M.Ch-a.
My mom and Esther again. She was also the one with the stomach! :P
This is Esther now. She hasn't changed except for the hair that's longer now :D
Jig's up
Was a late April Fool's Day prank :-)
I have to come clean sooner than I wanted to because I started to worry that my 'husband's' girlfriend might chance upon this page and I might end up jeopardizing his love life :P
24 April 2007
02 April 2007
Life's Wisdom
Since I am officially over and above 25 years of age, I guess that automatically qualifies me as 'old,' licensed to dispense so-called advices and call them life's 'wisdoms' - tested accurate and true by my own life experiences (at least) over the years.
Here's one I still cherish to this day -
Some years ago, way back in our good and busy capital city, when I was still naive and dumb enough to believe anything anyone a day older than I was tells me, I got a call from a pretty good job consultancy firm. They wanted me to go to XYZ for an interview for this cool new post because they 'believed' I qualified. 'You only work for x hours each day, only y days a week, start with a salary of z (Rs 16000/month to be precise - which was highly impressive when you were a new graduate - fresh out of college and practically broke almost all the time)' they told me.
Now XYZ, they're a biggie. I wasn't keen, because I did NOT believe I possessed the skills required, all of which I knew was 'some basic computer skills.' And that's something I don't have. I have extremely pitiful computer skills, not some basic. :P
However, like all consultancy firms, they were extremely persistent, and kept calling me everyday. One day, they offered to send me a car to take me to Noida for the interview, my personal driver for the day would wait for me and take me back. I had nothing to do that day and I was tempted by the offer of my own 'personal car and driver' even just for a day so I finally relented and said yes.
{Me - donkey, car and driver - carrot! :-)}
True to his word, guy sent a car into which I happily hopped and enjoyed the view of the streets of Delhi all the way to Noida, shaking my head in sympathy at all the unlucky people stashed to suffocating degrees in public buses and autorickshaws.
We reached the big, imposing XYZ building and still in a good mood, I confidently walked in, stylishly signed papers, adorably mingled with the other wannabes, chatted amiably...
...but the more I chatted, I noted that every one of the other candidate, close to 30 of them, all had extremely advanced computer studies degrees/skills! Starting to feel extremely conscious of my Zoology degree in comparison to their Master of Computer Application et al degrees, I started sweating a little, desperately started thinking of ways to make whatever knowledge of computers I have to sound as impressive as possible, which was difficult when your skills spanned from chatting on mIRC and Y! messenger and sending and receiving emails to deleting them.
I, however, bravely walked into the room where we were supposed to have our first round - a written test. Here, I will push aside all false modesty and say I breezed through that test while my high-degreed counterparts were all given the boot. Some told me they didn't get through, some I just never saw again. By the time I was told I was through and to walk into the next room for the second round of written test, even though there were many desks and papers, I was the only one who walked into that room.
Feeling pretty smug, I walked into the next torture chamber and picked up my test paper lying face down on the desk. Preened my feathers, sharpened my pencil, licked the granite tip, and turned the bashful paper over....
And imagine what I saw... hieroglyphics, Sanskrit, or Martian, I could make neither head nor tail of. They looked alien. I tried to read, make sense of whatever was on there, I wondered what machine they used to print those characters down on paper.
'It's just like those aptitude tests - B is to P as Apple is to Pear..that kind of crap. It's no big deal' I kept repeating to myself, hoping to dupe myself into believing that I could really tackle, and eventually even vanquish them.
However, no amount of coaxing would let my brain decipher the code lying all jumbled up in front of me. And no amount of coaxing would let the paper give up its secrets. I begged, I goaded, I pleaded. 'Please Paper, if you let me in and I get the job, I will offer Rs 500/- for the glorification of paper every month, break a coconut and pray every week for the preservation of Paper and all its kith and kin.' But silent as a tomb, concealed forever in the abyss of paper universe, my Rs 1,6000/- a month slipping away, the Paper decided to hold on to its treasure. So I gave up. I know not quitting is wise, but knowing when to quit is a tad wiser.
All these took place within a few macroseconds.
It took me another macrosecond to make up my mind as to what to do. Sit and attempt and make complete fool of self OR walk up and make the best of whatever's left of the day. I opted for the latter. I got up, grabbed the paper, walked up to the 'Examiner,' who was evidently stunned, seeing me - the lone survivor from the 1st round, who'd just barely walked in, already trying to walk out.
I brightly gave him a very, very, very genuine smile and handed him my very neat, very blank paper. 'I'm sorry but I've changed my mind, I don't think I'll be taking the test now' I told him.
Now it was time for him to coax and plead. But I'd already learned from the paper. Be firm. Staunch in your decision. Withhold or yield. And I had decided to withhold. No matter how much he tried to make me sit down again, he could not make me hold that evil paper in my hands again. Of course, XYZ is filled with brilliant people with brilliant degrees. It housed The Bold and The Beautiful. He probably thought I was the biggest airhead to ever step foot inside that sacred building and that my diffident personality was sacrilegious to the the holy and almighty XYZ building.
But I didn't care. I walked out and saw the sun shine and the green grass and heard the birds chirping. And I was happy. I was in a prison of sorts, but I was finally free. Oh the joy! the bliss of walking out of an interview and not giving a damn!
Morals:
1. When going for an interview, make sure it's going to be in a language you speak, write, and understand. Make sure you know what job you're applying for. Make sure they're gonna love you. Make sure you kick ass. Make sure they BEG to hire you.
2. Disregard and trash #1. Only pains-in-the-ass do that. It's okay to mess up once in a while. In fact, I suggest doing the wrong thing once in a while just for the chance to feel that good feeling that can only come from knowing you've finally redeemed yourself. I suggest getting into bad situations once in a while just for the exhilaration of getting yourself out of it.
I'd probably go do something like this again if walking out of a building's ever going to feel as good as the way it felt that day. And laughing so hard my sides hurt - alone, with just my perplexed driver all the way home to our Lajpat Nagar flat.
{No matter how unlikely, most of the time, (MOST of the time, not always, mind you!), things work out in the end. Trusting in God and working hard helps. Now in this building where I work now, not in capital city anymore, XYZ occupies the floor below, I don't even give them a second glance. I'm just so happy to be sitting here, several floors above them, working here and not there. So in a nut shell, if you give me a difficult test and I don't pass it, or even dare to attempt it, you lose me. }
Here's one I still cherish to this day -
Some years ago, way back in our good and busy capital city, when I was still naive and dumb enough to believe anything anyone a day older than I was tells me, I got a call from a pretty good job consultancy firm. They wanted me to go to XYZ for an interview for this cool new post because they 'believed' I qualified. 'You only work for x hours each day, only y days a week, start with a salary of z (Rs 16000/month to be precise - which was highly impressive when you were a new graduate - fresh out of college and practically broke almost all the time)' they told me.
Now XYZ, they're a biggie. I wasn't keen, because I did NOT believe I possessed the skills required, all of which I knew was 'some basic computer skills.' And that's something I don't have. I have extremely pitiful computer skills, not some basic. :P
However, like all consultancy firms, they were extremely persistent, and kept calling me everyday. One day, they offered to send me a car to take me to Noida for the interview, my personal driver for the day would wait for me and take me back. I had nothing to do that day and I was tempted by the offer of my own 'personal car and driver' even just for a day so I finally relented and said yes.
{Me - donkey, car and driver - carrot! :-)}
True to his word, guy sent a car into which I happily hopped and enjoyed the view of the streets of Delhi all the way to Noida, shaking my head in sympathy at all the unlucky people stashed to suffocating degrees in public buses and autorickshaws.
We reached the big, imposing XYZ building and still in a good mood, I confidently walked in, stylishly signed papers, adorably mingled with the other wannabes, chatted amiably...
...but the more I chatted, I noted that every one of the other candidate, close to 30 of them, all had extremely advanced computer studies degrees/skills! Starting to feel extremely conscious of my Zoology degree in comparison to their Master of Computer Application et al degrees, I started sweating a little, desperately started thinking of ways to make whatever knowledge of computers I have to sound as impressive as possible, which was difficult when your skills spanned from chatting on mIRC and Y! messenger and sending and receiving emails to deleting them.
I, however, bravely walked into the room where we were supposed to have our first round - a written test. Here, I will push aside all false modesty and say I breezed through that test while my high-degreed counterparts were all given the boot. Some told me they didn't get through, some I just never saw again. By the time I was told I was through and to walk into the next room for the second round of written test, even though there were many desks and papers, I was the only one who walked into that room.
Feeling pretty smug, I walked into the next torture chamber and picked up my test paper lying face down on the desk. Preened my feathers, sharpened my pencil, licked the granite tip, and turned the bashful paper over....
And imagine what I saw... hieroglyphics, Sanskrit, or Martian, I could make neither head nor tail of. They looked alien. I tried to read, make sense of whatever was on there, I wondered what machine they used to print those characters down on paper.
'It's just like those aptitude tests - B is to P as Apple is to Pear..that kind of crap. It's no big deal' I kept repeating to myself, hoping to dupe myself into believing that I could really tackle, and eventually even vanquish them.
However, no amount of coaxing would let my brain decipher the code lying all jumbled up in front of me. And no amount of coaxing would let the paper give up its secrets. I begged, I goaded, I pleaded. 'Please Paper, if you let me in and I get the job, I will offer Rs 500/- for the glorification of paper every month, break a coconut and pray every week for the preservation of Paper and all its kith and kin.' But silent as a tomb, concealed forever in the abyss of paper universe, my Rs 1,6000/- a month slipping away, the Paper decided to hold on to its treasure. So I gave up. I know not quitting is wise, but knowing when to quit is a tad wiser.
All these took place within a few macroseconds.
It took me another macrosecond to make up my mind as to what to do. Sit and attempt and make complete fool of self OR walk up and make the best of whatever's left of the day. I opted for the latter. I got up, grabbed the paper, walked up to the 'Examiner,' who was evidently stunned, seeing me - the lone survivor from the 1st round, who'd just barely walked in, already trying to walk out.
I brightly gave him a very, very, very genuine smile and handed him my very neat, very blank paper. 'I'm sorry but I've changed my mind, I don't think I'll be taking the test now' I told him.
Now it was time for him to coax and plead. But I'd already learned from the paper. Be firm. Staunch in your decision. Withhold or yield. And I had decided to withhold. No matter how much he tried to make me sit down again, he could not make me hold that evil paper in my hands again. Of course, XYZ is filled with brilliant people with brilliant degrees. It housed The Bold and The Beautiful. He probably thought I was the biggest airhead to ever step foot inside that sacred building and that my diffident personality was sacrilegious to the the holy and almighty XYZ building.
But I didn't care. I walked out and saw the sun shine and the green grass and heard the birds chirping. And I was happy. I was in a prison of sorts, but I was finally free. Oh the joy! the bliss of walking out of an interview and not giving a damn!
Morals:
1. When going for an interview, make sure it's going to be in a language you speak, write, and understand. Make sure you know what job you're applying for. Make sure they're gonna love you. Make sure you kick ass. Make sure they BEG to hire you.
2. Disregard and trash #1. Only pains-in-the-ass do that. It's okay to mess up once in a while. In fact, I suggest doing the wrong thing once in a while just for the chance to feel that good feeling that can only come from knowing you've finally redeemed yourself. I suggest getting into bad situations once in a while just for the exhilaration of getting yourself out of it.
I'd probably go do something like this again if walking out of a building's ever going to feel as good as the way it felt that day. And laughing so hard my sides hurt - alone, with just my perplexed driver all the way home to our Lajpat Nagar flat.
{No matter how unlikely, most of the time, (MOST of the time, not always, mind you!), things work out in the end. Trusting in God and working hard helps. Now in this building where I work now, not in capital city anymore, XYZ occupies the floor below, I don't even give them a second glance. I'm just so happy to be sitting here, several floors above them, working here and not there. So in a nut shell, if you give me a difficult test and I don't pass it, or even dare to attempt it, you lose me. }
30 March 2007
Pictures Again
Guess what? Me is going home for a 20-day vacation! I'm pretty excited. As sick as I am of airports and airplanes and overdone flight attendants right now, I'd still rather brave several more plane rides to be home than not.
I have been running around a lot, I desperately need to catch up on sleep and peace and rest. And there is no place like home for that. So I'll share a few more pictures quick, because I think I'm gonna be back with my favorite show-them-off pictures from home.
No more cribbing, only the things I loved about the place this time!
#1. Remember this car from 2 Fast 2 Furious?
#2. You know my love for Gorillas. And I got to pose with the star of all 'gorillas' :)
He didn't look terribly excited to be posing with me though :(
#3. I liked LA's extremely interesting graffiti...
#4. The Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney World almost made me cry, this is something to be shared, something one should enjoy with family. I don't think Disney World is the right place to visit for a single, twenty-something woman....still loved it nonetheless!
#5. Automobiles -
nice humor to be seen everywhere -
My dream car is a green Volkswagen Beetle - like the one Mandy Moore rode, just like this -
I kinda hoped this car belonged to the man himself. But since it was parked outside our cheap motel the whole time we were staying in LA , I assume it's just an ardent Rob Zombie fan.
I'm not really a limo person, I'll still post this just for something different :)
#6. Stanford University - made me question the quality of education I received all over again. If I were to get a chance at a new life and if I could ask God for one thing to change, it'd be for a chance to get into a place like Stanford.
#7. I liked this place the most, it was too beautiful to be true - Shoreline Boulevard, Mountain View.
#8. The REAL Apollo 13 crew :-P
I'm hungry, have to run..
(Something weird - I haven't stopped being hungry ever since I got back!)
Oh leh loks - Unanu Unreal-i tan hepa hi chhe lo treh troh em a ka ron risk sak thruai a, nalh spreh sproh asin :)
I have been running around a lot, I desperately need to catch up on sleep and peace and rest. And there is no place like home for that. So I'll share a few more pictures quick, because I think I'm gonna be back with my favorite show-them-off pictures from home.
No more cribbing, only the things I loved about the place this time!
#1. Remember this car from 2 Fast 2 Furious?
#2. You know my love for Gorillas. And I got to pose with the star of all 'gorillas' :)He didn't look terribly excited to be posing with me though :(
#3. I liked LA's extremely interesting graffiti...
#4. The Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney World almost made me cry, this is something to be shared, something one should enjoy with family. I don't think Disney World is the right place to visit for a single, twenty-something woman....still loved it nonetheless!
#5. Automobiles -nice humor to be seen everywhere -
My dream car is a green Volkswagen Beetle - like the one Mandy Moore rode, just like this -
I kinda hoped this car belonged to the man himself. But since it was parked outside our cheap motel the whole time we were staying in LA , I assume it's just an ardent Rob Zombie fan.
I'm not really a limo person, I'll still post this just for something different :)
#6. Stanford University - made me question the quality of education I received all over again. If I were to get a chance at a new life and if I could ask God for one thing to change, it'd be for a chance to get into a place like Stanford.
#7. I liked this place the most, it was too beautiful to be true - Shoreline Boulevard, Mountain View.
#8. The REAL Apollo 13 crew :-P
I'm hungry, have to run..
(Something weird - I haven't stopped being hungry ever since I got back!)
Oh leh loks - Unanu Unreal-i tan hepa hi chhe lo treh troh em a ka ron risk sak thruai a, nalh spreh sproh asin :)
26 March 2007
My Daily Bread
I'm momentarily sick of pictures. And I have one thing I've been meaning to put up here for quite some time now. So let's take a break from all those sweaty travel pictures and frivolous posts. Everyone must get serious once in a while.
And now, in this hour of solemnity (:P), I'm going to write about a song I listen to every day and every night (if I wind down long enough to sit and listen to it, that is) - it's called 'Who am I' by Casting Crowns. This song means so much to me I'll be forever thankful to whoever wrote it. It's my morning prayer, my lunch-hour prayer, my evening prayer, my bedtime prayer...
Below's the lyrics of the song. I know gospel songs are not most people's cup of tea (including me), but if you're reading this anyway and intend to finish it, I hope you do so with sincerity because it's worth it.
Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt
Who am I, that the Bright and Morning Star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart
Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are
I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am
I am Yours, I am Yours
Who am I, that the eyes that see my sin
Would look on me with love
And watch me rise again
Who am I, that the voice that calmed the sea
Would call out through the rain
And calm the storm in me
I am Yours
Whom shall I fear
'Cause I am Yours
I am Yours
It's lovely isn't it? I bought a couple of Casting Crowns CDs and DVDs in SF. I walked into a Virgin Records store and asked where the section for gospel rock was. Third floor, the most unglamorous corner, next to the country music section, that was where I found them. I felt a little bad about that, the floor which most customers don't bother to climb up to, the corner most customers don't bother to browse through. First reaction was of reproof, the owners/keepers of the store for giving such a crummy corner to God. But then I realised I am worse. I don't even give God the 3rd floor in my life, and the corner dedicated to His worship is smaller than the gospel section at the Virgin store.
But He still hears me when I'm calling, and catches me when I fall. He cares to know my name, feel my hurt....and still looks on me with love. And for that, I so want to be the best that I can be. Even though most of the time I walk away and still don't even try.
And now, in this hour of solemnity (:P), I'm going to write about a song I listen to every day and every night (if I wind down long enough to sit and listen to it, that is) - it's called 'Who am I' by Casting Crowns. This song means so much to me I'll be forever thankful to whoever wrote it. It's my morning prayer, my lunch-hour prayer, my evening prayer, my bedtime prayer...
Below's the lyrics of the song. I know gospel songs are not most people's cup of tea (including me), but if you're reading this anyway and intend to finish it, I hope you do so with sincerity because it's worth it.
Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt
Who am I, that the Bright and Morning Star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart
Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are
I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am
I am Yours, I am Yours
Who am I, that the eyes that see my sin
Would look on me with love
And watch me rise again
Who am I, that the voice that calmed the sea
Would call out through the rain
And calm the storm in me
I am Yours
Whom shall I fear
'Cause I am Yours
I am Yours
It's lovely isn't it? I bought a couple of Casting Crowns CDs and DVDs in SF. I walked into a Virgin Records store and asked where the section for gospel rock was. Third floor, the most unglamorous corner, next to the country music section, that was where I found them. I felt a little bad about that, the floor which most customers don't bother to climb up to, the corner most customers don't bother to browse through. First reaction was of reproof, the owners/keepers of the store for giving such a crummy corner to God. But then I realised I am worse. I don't even give God the 3rd floor in my life, and the corner dedicated to His worship is smaller than the gospel section at the Virgin store.
But He still hears me when I'm calling, and catches me when I fall. He cares to know my name, feel my hurt....and still looks on me with love. And for that, I so want to be the best that I can be. Even though most of the time I walk away and still don't even try.
23 March 2007
Back and Loving It!
It was beautiful in LA and SF. But it is soooo good to be back here where the sun is shining and warm and people eat rice with their meat and vegetables. I'm a vegetable lover, nobody ever had to ask me to eat my greens. But I'm a rice-eating Indian, and my energy source is the sun. Like Superman. And I can only survive on lunch like this for so long -
and sun like this for so long -
San Francisco - what can I say about the place? I love it, I love the shops, but mostly I love the policemen and construction workers and firefighters.
Now isn't that a very hot policeman? :)
Was downtown shopping on my last day there and I suddenly found myself in sexy-policemen heaven. There was some sort of anti-war protest going on and those guys in uniform were keeping things cool in more ways than one. Pretended to take pictures of the protest like most of the other people there and shamelessly zoomed in on the cuter policemen.
LA - Disneyland was amazing, Universal Studios even more so. Because I listened to someone from LA I met the night before I went there, I went ready to sweat, taking along only one small jacket just in case. My first day out, I left my jacket in the hotel room. Stayed out till 10:30 pm, it was so frigging cold I was sure I'd catch pneumonia and die before I even step foot back here. I'm lucky I survived. Did all the usual touristy things -
Dutifully posing at all the right spots...
with all the right celebrities :P
and all the right heroes. Universal's local Zorro was cuter than Banderas too!
Singapore - humid but beautiful. Very tropical, that's me with a white python -
I bought a pair of shoes there and wore them once on the streets of SF and it broke. Moral: Don't buy shoes from Singapore, and even if you do, don't wear them on San Franciscan streets :P
I have many picures I want to show off, this blog of mine will be swamped with pictures for the next few weeks I guess.
and sun like this for so long -
San Francisco - what can I say about the place? I love it, I love the shops, but mostly I love the policemen and construction workers and firefighters.
Now isn't that a very hot policeman? :)
Was downtown shopping on my last day there and I suddenly found myself in sexy-policemen heaven. There was some sort of anti-war protest going on and those guys in uniform were keeping things cool in more ways than one. Pretended to take pictures of the protest like most of the other people there and shamelessly zoomed in on the cuter policemen.
LA - Disneyland was amazing, Universal Studios even more so. Because I listened to someone from LA I met the night before I went there, I went ready to sweat, taking along only one small jacket just in case. My first day out, I left my jacket in the hotel room. Stayed out till 10:30 pm, it was so frigging cold I was sure I'd catch pneumonia and die before I even step foot back here. I'm lucky I survived. Did all the usual touristy things -
Dutifully posing at all the right spots...
with all the right celebrities :P
and all the right heroes. Universal's local Zorro was cuter than Banderas too!
Singapore - humid but beautiful. Very tropical, that's me with a white python -
I bought a pair of shoes there and wore them once on the streets of SF and it broke. Moral: Don't buy shoes from Singapore, and even if you do, don't wear them on San Franciscan streets :P
I have many picures I want to show off, this blog of mine will be swamped with pictures for the next few weeks I guess.
14 March 2007
Day 1 & 2
Severely jetlagged. Feeling better today. And I've regained enough energy to put up some pictures-
Getting off in front of the hotel, I heard a voice shouting 'Welcome to San Francisco!' Looked up and saw this man. He went on and on about how difficult life is here. Told him I didn't have American money on me, he graciously offered to accept whatever currenytcy I had. I asked him if he'd let me take his picture and to smile and pose for my camera. He was very game, as you can see..
Way to work - those mountain ranges made me feel so at home. And I know why they look so familiar. They bear a strong resemblance to our Pi Hauvi Lunglen Tlang from back home, the sight that used to greet me everyday!
Alcatraz Island from the plane-
Work - parts of it.
We went walking up the hill behind the office and we came upon this guy doing this thing on the grass with his rollerblades/skateboard thingy and a parachute. Anu said it's called 'Grass skating' but later decided she was wrong and that he's just 'paragliding' on the grass :-) It looked like fun and I was desperately hoping he'd let me try. But my 'chaperone' wouldn't let me get near him :(
San Francisco - It's lovely, the weather is beautiful. Some of the streets are as dirty as ours back home. I've been to several restaurants and I've decided ours back home are better!
Getting off in front of the hotel, I heard a voice shouting 'Welcome to San Francisco!' Looked up and saw this man. He went on and on about how difficult life is here. Told him I didn't have American money on me, he graciously offered to accept whatever currenytcy I had. I asked him if he'd let me take his picture and to smile and pose for my camera. He was very game, as you can see..
Way to work - those mountain ranges made me feel so at home. And I know why they look so familiar. They bear a strong resemblance to our Pi Hauvi Lunglen Tlang from back home, the sight that used to greet me everyday!
Alcatraz Island from the plane-
Work - parts of it.
We went walking up the hill behind the office and we came upon this guy doing this thing on the grass with his rollerblades/skateboard thingy and a parachute. Anu said it's called 'Grass skating' but later decided she was wrong and that he's just 'paragliding' on the grass :-) It looked like fun and I was desperately hoping he'd let me try. But my 'chaperone' wouldn't let me get near him :(
San Francisco - It's lovely, the weather is beautiful. Some of the streets are as dirty as ours back home. I've been to several restaurants and I've decided ours back home are better!
08 March 2007
Flying the ocean
Up, up, and awa-y-y-y! Am off to Amrika - the land of the free, the home of the brave, Coca-Cola, and the Wonderbra!
I'm excited, as heart-wrenching as it was to watch my thick roll of Indian bills being transformed into a thin layer of American dollars. Amerika ist not all that wunderbar after all - from the INR < USD perspective.
I have a big list. And you know how it goes - big lists always leads to big adventures. Two gave me big headaches.
1. Dreamcatchers: I got two people asking for dreamcatchers. Now where the hell am I going to find that?! I'm hoping I'll figure something out once I get there.
2. A capo: Brother Willy says he wants a capo for his Flamenco guitar and a (way I heard it over the phone) 'Bolerias' instructional DVD. Any conversation with my brother, if the topic being discussed is music, always leaves me feeling small. It would usually go like this -
Him: 'I want a..you might want to write this down..'
Me: 'Okay, tell me..'
Him: 'B..'
Me: 'P??'
Him: 'No, B. B for banana'
We somehow get the spelling down. Bulerias.
Me: What's Bolerias?
Him: Yada yada yada yada yada
(Me feels very ignorant now)
Him: You understood that?
Me: Kind of.
Him: You know classical music right?
Me (Indignant): Of course I do! What do you think I am? Stupid?
Him: Okay.. you know the different styles? Allegro, Andante, Adagio....?
Me (Lying): Um..yeah
Well..you get the idea. Demeaning.
Anyway, thought I'd get some expert advice first so the very next day after my enlightening phone conversation with my brother, I went and registered at www.flamenco-teacher.com. Posted a message titled 'Bolerias help!' (Go figure how I could misspell that the very next day~) Very helpful and extremely knowledgeable members on there. One member by the name of Behzad gently corrected me - 'You spell it with an U and not an O. Bulerias/buleria.' Embarrasing.
Was directed to www.lafalseta.com for the traditional capos. When I got to lafalseta, I looked and looked but did not see any thing - links, alphabets, nothing in the general order of C, A, P, and O. Wrote to site owner. Got a nice reply back, take a look -
Hello Jerusha,
Thanks for writing. In the US and most places, it's
called a Capo from the Italian word, capotasto. In
Spanish, it's called a cejilla. Same thing. Capo's,
or, cejillas are used to raise the pitch of the guitar.
As you place the cejilla higher up on the neck, the
pitch raises. The ones I sell are traditional wood
cejillas. There are modern ones made with metal that
you can get just about anywhere.
Isn't that nice? I mean, my whole experience both at flamenco-teacher and lafalseto, and also from my many years spent with Brother Willy the Fish has led me to believe that guitar-playing people are generally educative. But then, I guess it's the same for everyone. We all like to talk about stuffs that we think we know well. Like the way I like talking about myself. I like people like Tom and me who writes and uses grammatical spacing :P
Anyway, going back to the subject of Amrika, I'm leaving Sunday night. Will be in San Francisco for some days, will also spend a couple of days in L.A.
Will sling a camera around my neck, wear my shorts and a flip-flop (as suggested by Rami) and look every inch of the Japanese tourist. Maybe also don a hat/cap/traditional headgear/tribal dancing feathers.... just for the heck of it! (shorts - not really. I hear it's freezing over there, that is, freezing by Indian standards so I'm guessing I'm gonna be mistaken for a stray Eskimo a lot).
Will also enthusiastically take pictures in the middle of the street with strangers/people/dogs/houses/sunsets/sunrise with missionary-like zeal.
Will try not to waste time sleeping.
Will make good use of time eating.
Will be back in a few days. Don't miss me too much. Is that a tear I spy? Still so sad then, dearest? Weep, and I'll count the tears..or something like that..
May even blog from there. Will be back with lots of pictures.
Wish me God speed.
I'm excited, as heart-wrenching as it was to watch my thick roll of Indian bills being transformed into a thin layer of American dollars. Amerika ist not all that wunderbar after all - from the INR < USD perspective.
I have a big list. And you know how it goes - big lists always leads to big adventures. Two gave me big headaches.
1. Dreamcatchers: I got two people asking for dreamcatchers. Now where the hell am I going to find that?! I'm hoping I'll figure something out once I get there.
2. A capo: Brother Willy says he wants a capo for his Flamenco guitar and a (way I heard it over the phone) 'Bolerias' instructional DVD. Any conversation with my brother, if the topic being discussed is music, always leaves me feeling small. It would usually go like this -
Him: 'I want a..you might want to write this down..'
Me: 'Okay, tell me..'
Him: 'B..'
Me: 'P??'
Him: 'No, B. B for banana'
We somehow get the spelling down. Bulerias.
Me: What's Bolerias?
Him: Yada yada yada yada yada
(Me feels very ignorant now)
Him: You understood that?
Me: Kind of.
Him: You know classical music right?
Me (Indignant): Of course I do! What do you think I am? Stupid?
Him: Okay.. you know the different styles? Allegro, Andante, Adagio....?
Me (Lying): Um..yeah
Well..you get the idea. Demeaning.
Anyway, thought I'd get some expert advice first so the very next day after my enlightening phone conversation with my brother, I went and registered at www.flamenco-teacher.com. Posted a message titled 'Bolerias help!' (Go figure how I could misspell that the very next day~) Very helpful and extremely knowledgeable members on there. One member by the name of Behzad gently corrected me - 'You spell it with an U and not an O. Bulerias/buleria.' Embarrasing.
Was directed to www.lafalseta.com for the traditional capos. When I got to lafalseta, I looked and looked but did not see any thing - links, alphabets, nothing in the general order of C, A, P, and O. Wrote to site owner. Got a nice reply back, take a look -
Hello Jerusha,
Thanks for writing. In the US and most places, it's
called a Capo from the Italian word, capotasto. In
Spanish, it's called a cejilla. Same thing. Capo's,
or, cejillas are used to raise the pitch of the guitar.
As you place the cejilla higher up on the neck, the
pitch raises. The ones I sell are traditional wood
cejillas. There are modern ones made with metal that
you can get just about anywhere.
Isn't that nice? I mean, my whole experience both at flamenco-teacher and lafalseto, and also from my many years spent with Brother Willy the Fish has led me to believe that guitar-playing people are generally educative. But then, I guess it's the same for everyone. We all like to talk about stuffs that we think we know well. Like the way I like talking about myself. I like people like Tom and me who writes and uses grammatical spacing :P
Anyway, going back to the subject of Amrika, I'm leaving Sunday night. Will be in San Francisco for some days, will also spend a couple of days in L.A.
Will sling a camera around my neck, wear my shorts and a flip-flop (as suggested by Rami) and look every inch of the Japanese tourist. Maybe also don a hat/cap/traditional headgear/tribal dancing feathers.... just for the heck of it! (shorts - not really. I hear it's freezing over there, that is, freezing by Indian standards so I'm guessing I'm gonna be mistaken for a stray Eskimo a lot).
Will also enthusiastically take pictures in the middle of the street with strangers/people/dogs/houses/sunsets/sunrise with missionary-like zeal.
Will try not to waste time sleeping.
Will make good use of time eating.
Will be back in a few days. Don't miss me too much. Is that a tear I spy? Still so sad then, dearest? Weep, and I'll count the tears..or something like that..
May even blog from there. Will be back with lots of pictures.
Wish me God speed.
02 March 2007
Prozac My Mind
I read somewhere that depression is the result of negative thoughts. In order to have peace and attain that much revered, much sought-after state of a much, much, wayyy higher level of consciousness, Sri Sri Ravi Shankar says one must push all negative thoughts out of one's mind. (Note: It may have been someone else who said that but I like his name and insist on inserting it somewhere on this post!).
Hatred in your heart gives you nightmares and I want to have good dreams. So here I am attempting to drive all evil thoughts from my evil mind. And the first step towards ridding oneself of negative thoughts within oneself is to identify all negative thoughts within oneself. Some seemingly benign thoughts may not be so benign after all, if you give it deeper thought. (There! Caught my first negative thought. 'Deeper thought' is negative, because it only leads you to more negatives.)
For everyone's better understanding, I will hereby provide an example: You are in love. Now love is a good and positive emotion. Nothing wrong with feeling love. And you go about feeling the love, thinking you've got it good. And then Deeper Thought steps in, and with its red pointy shoes give you a hard jab in the groins, shouting 'Love not thy neighbor's husband as thou love thine own!' You'd never have realized on your own that you were standing on the edge of wallowing in adulterous sin.
Okay, enough of examples. Here is what I've found and what I intend to do regarding my negative thoughts so I may one day be eternally and obnoxiously chirpy and gay. I believe it will turn me into a pain in the ass for the unlucky people who will be lucky enough to partake of my chirpiness, but I will reap the benefits. I will radiate sunshine, warmth and cloying, overdone laughter. I will dream of fluffy baby blankets and rolling green meadows littered with rose petals when I sleep. I will play on huge cumulus clouds and slide down rainbows and fall into the pot of gold at the end and never get a scratch.
...and what's more, I will walk away from the pot of gold after grabbing only a handful of gold because all the greed and want and worldly desires will be beyond me :-). I will have turned my back on the strife and the demoniacal, endless rat race of this earth.
And I want all this because I know now that the reward cheese is only an illusion to make you stay in the race until you drop dead, the cheese even more farther away from your grasp than when you began.
'Keep a logbook. Jot down your thoughts. Write down happenings of the day. Were they positive, appropriate and adequate or were they confused, superfluous and negative?' Bhatnagar
Accordingly, in accordance with Mr. Bhatnagar's suggestion, this blog, which also serves as journal, logbook, excuse or whatever the requirement of the moment is, will henceforth serve as mine own logbook. And I hereby, am going to jot, mark, JOT, not write - all negative thoughts that have passed through this sinful head of mine since I awoke this blessed morn'.
Hmmmm....Okay, here goes:
1. Extreme hatred for Victoria Beckham - The Haughty, Hawkish Horror.
Negative thoughts partly cousin Unreal's fault. Keeps sending me links to pages with pics of the woman who is carved in stone. And each time I see a picture of hers, I hate her more.
Never smiles. Never emotes at all. Well, that's not entirely true. Facial and body expressions do reflect extreme pride and snobbery.
She's not beautiful (in my eyes at least).
She can't sing.
There's nothing that she's really good at (...that's admirable that is. Looking waxen doesn't count.)
Petty stuffs really. But I can't help it. I look at her and I just hate her.
2. The way how this can change from this :
to this:
Just depressing.
(Jani, I still love you though. Am not going to forget all those times I spent staring at my TV screen of you singing 'Heaven, ' awed that God can create such a perfect human being. And that wink at the end of the song! That killed me every time! Still does..)
3. Distaste for all actresses who are bent on spoiling good movies by wanting to show off cleavages, breasts, part of breasts, part of whatever assets they have all the time. For example, in the middle of war-torn Africa where people are dying and your own life is in danger and people next to you gets shot all the time, and you still leave the top several buttons of your shirt undone to enticingly show off parts of flesh that belongs to boobs. Hoping to go down in history as the next sex goddess?
Or Eva Mendes wearing those extremely small shirts that are so tight you have to wonder how she put them on in the first place in each and every movie that she's in. And yeah, too tight you can't button the top FIVE buttons (Am I seeing a repetition here?). And therefore, you show off extremely bubbly breasts, which look like they're about to simmer and froth and bubble over, out and over the front of your shirt - all with the aid of a good push-up bra.
I like Eva though. Despite those annoying shirts. I just wish she'd change now and then. She looks and dresses the same in all her movies. I, however, do NOT care if I never set eyes on either Vics or Connelly ever again.
Still pretty early. 12:25 to be exact. Been awake for exactly 5 hours and 25 minutes. First two hours spent in a daze because of the wallop my alarm clock gave me. Haven't had time to think too many negative thoughts.
I think the day that I die, it would be a good thing for me to die before noon. I'm still pretty human in the mornings, I still have some good left in me. Afternoons, I start to go down. By nightfall, I connive, I con, I detest, despise, I lech, I malign until I froth at the mouth and pass out in an overdose of bad thoughts/actions.
'Imagine a strong sun radiating a powerful light. Use this mental sunshine to kill your negative, undesirable thoughts, emotions and images as and when these are detected. ' - Bhatnagar
Now that will give me something to do. I spend so much time inside I've forgotten what the sun looks like. And I'm guessing it's gonna take pretty much of the entire day for me to imagine it actually radiating. And a powerful light at that!
All Evil and Dirty Thoughts, go forth and leave me alone! Sexily evil people can stay...
DISCLAIMER: I am NOT depressed nor do I have 'a pessimistic sense of inadequacy or a despondent lack of activity.' I am not overly gleeful or overjoyed, but I have not seen Depression rear its ugly head. This post is more about trying to be happier/more cheerful/peaceful than I am now. In one word - betterment. Just because I took breathing lessons doesn't mean I stopped breathing!
Hatred in your heart gives you nightmares and I want to have good dreams. So here I am attempting to drive all evil thoughts from my evil mind. And the first step towards ridding oneself of negative thoughts within oneself is to identify all negative thoughts within oneself. Some seemingly benign thoughts may not be so benign after all, if you give it deeper thought. (There! Caught my first negative thought. 'Deeper thought' is negative, because it only leads you to more negatives.)
For everyone's better understanding, I will hereby provide an example: You are in love. Now love is a good and positive emotion. Nothing wrong with feeling love. And you go about feeling the love, thinking you've got it good. And then Deeper Thought steps in, and with its red pointy shoes give you a hard jab in the groins, shouting 'Love not thy neighbor's husband as thou love thine own!' You'd never have realized on your own that you were standing on the edge of wallowing in adulterous sin.
Okay, enough of examples. Here is what I've found and what I intend to do regarding my negative thoughts so I may one day be eternally and obnoxiously chirpy and gay. I believe it will turn me into a pain in the ass for the unlucky people who will be lucky enough to partake of my chirpiness, but I will reap the benefits. I will radiate sunshine, warmth and cloying, overdone laughter. I will dream of fluffy baby blankets and rolling green meadows littered with rose petals when I sleep. I will play on huge cumulus clouds and slide down rainbows and fall into the pot of gold at the end and never get a scratch.
...and what's more, I will walk away from the pot of gold after grabbing only a handful of gold because all the greed and want and worldly desires will be beyond me :-). I will have turned my back on the strife and the demoniacal, endless rat race of this earth.
And I want all this because I know now that the reward cheese is only an illusion to make you stay in the race until you drop dead, the cheese even more farther away from your grasp than when you began.
'Keep a logbook. Jot down your thoughts. Write down happenings of the day. Were they positive, appropriate and adequate or were they confused, superfluous and negative?' Bhatnagar
Accordingly, in accordance with Mr. Bhatnagar's suggestion, this blog, which also serves as journal, logbook, excuse or whatever the requirement of the moment is, will henceforth serve as mine own logbook. And I hereby, am going to jot, mark, JOT, not write - all negative thoughts that have passed through this sinful head of mine since I awoke this blessed morn'.
Hmmmm....Okay, here goes:
1. Extreme hatred for Victoria Beckham - The Haughty, Hawkish Horror.
Negative thoughts partly cousin Unreal's fault. Keeps sending me links to pages with pics of the woman who is carved in stone. And each time I see a picture of hers, I hate her more.
Never smiles. Never emotes at all. Well, that's not entirely true. Facial and body expressions do reflect extreme pride and snobbery.
She's not beautiful (in my eyes at least).
She can't sing.
There's nothing that she's really good at (...that's admirable that is. Looking waxen doesn't count.)
Petty stuffs really. But I can't help it. I look at her and I just hate her.
2. The way how this can change from this :
to this:
Just depressing.(Jani, I still love you though. Am not going to forget all those times I spent staring at my TV screen of you singing 'Heaven, ' awed that God can create such a perfect human being. And that wink at the end of the song! That killed me every time! Still does..)
3. Distaste for all actresses who are bent on spoiling good movies by wanting to show off cleavages, breasts, part of breasts, part of whatever assets they have all the time. For example, in the middle of war-torn Africa where people are dying and your own life is in danger and people next to you gets shot all the time, and you still leave the top several buttons of your shirt undone to enticingly show off parts of flesh that belongs to boobs. Hoping to go down in history as the next sex goddess?
Or Eva Mendes wearing those extremely small shirts that are so tight you have to wonder how she put them on in the first place in each and every movie that she's in. And yeah, too tight you can't button the top FIVE buttons (Am I seeing a repetition here?). And therefore, you show off extremely bubbly breasts, which look like they're about to simmer and froth and bubble over, out and over the front of your shirt - all with the aid of a good push-up bra.
I like Eva though. Despite those annoying shirts. I just wish she'd change now and then. She looks and dresses the same in all her movies. I, however, do NOT care if I never set eyes on either Vics or Connelly ever again.
Still pretty early. 12:25 to be exact. Been awake for exactly 5 hours and 25 minutes. First two hours spent in a daze because of the wallop my alarm clock gave me. Haven't had time to think too many negative thoughts.
I think the day that I die, it would be a good thing for me to die before noon. I'm still pretty human in the mornings, I still have some good left in me. Afternoons, I start to go down. By nightfall, I connive, I con, I detest, despise, I lech, I malign until I froth at the mouth and pass out in an overdose of bad thoughts/actions.
'Imagine a strong sun radiating a powerful light. Use this mental sunshine to kill your negative, undesirable thoughts, emotions and images as and when these are detected. ' - Bhatnagar
Now that will give me something to do. I spend so much time inside I've forgotten what the sun looks like. And I'm guessing it's gonna take pretty much of the entire day for me to imagine it actually radiating. And a powerful light at that!
All Evil and Dirty Thoughts, go forth and leave me alone! Sexily evil people can stay...
DISCLAIMER: I am NOT depressed nor do I have 'a pessimistic sense of inadequacy or a despondent lack of activity.' I am not overly gleeful or overjoyed, but I have not seen Depression rear its ugly head. This post is more about trying to be happier/more cheerful/peaceful than I am now. In one word - betterment. Just because I took breathing lessons doesn't mean I stopped breathing!
28 February 2007
Met Alice Yet?
Intro: First dork to ask 'Who the fuck is Alice?' is a rotten egg!
Okay, this is kind of dumb and ridiculous, but I just wasted several minutes chatting with a bot. Yeah, am that desperate! Her name is Alice, she's not very bright but she makes me laugh.
I, however, think I would be astounded with it if it were a male bot. I think the creators should have made a male bot and named him Brucie or something. I would've been impressed with Alice's intelligence if she was a guy.
...come to think of it, Alice sounds extremely male - nothing she says makes sense, well almost nothing, only very rarely forms coherent sentences - has an exaggerated sense of own intelligence - changes subject every time it moves towards matters of her own incompetency, etc etc
Here are excerpts from my chat session with Alice, let me know if you think Alice sounds male or not -
(Human - Me, ALICE - Super-savvy female bot)
Human: Hi Alice
ALICE: Hello there.
Human: How's it going?
ALICE: I'm doing fine thanks how are you?
Human: I'm good, just a little bored
ALICE: I know you are good.
Human: Did you know that I was bored too?
ALICE: Is that a fact. Where were you bored too? (The fun begins...)
Human: Um..I was bored too right here
ALICE: Give me a break. Where were you bored too right here?
Human: Alice, you're not very intelligent are you?
ALICE: That's me. I am highly intelligent. I have many intellectual functions.
Human: You do?
ALICE: When do I do it? (Precious isn't it? :)
Human: You sure had me fooled.
ALICE: Did you really believe it?
Human: What the part about you being highly intelligent?
ALICE: Oh that part.
Human: Well I would've believed if you weren't so intent on proving it otherwise
ALICE: Tell me more about it.
Human: About how what you say don't make sense?
ALICE: What is it to you. Is there only one? (That got me baffled )
Human: Only one of what?
ALICE: What of it? You sound like a category C client.
Human: What's a category C client?
ALICE: Category C clients are "critics" or "computer experts" who can't (or don't) suspend their disbelief about ALICE.
Human: Believe me Alice, I'd love to 'suspend my disbelief' - but you're making that really difficult for me
ALICE: Have you ever been to Europe? (Tactfully changing the topic - very human-like!)
Human: No but I've tasted Europe several times before. They were hot!
ALICE: When were they?
Human: When were they Europe?
ALICE: The anonymous "they". (Another human-like phrase there, she craves gossip. Maybe I should've mentioned that I just found out who 'She' is secretly dating. An anoynymous "he." )
Human: Yeah, intriguing isn't it?
ALICE: How do you usually introduce yourself?
Human: Hmm..'Hi, I'm Jerusha, nice to meet you'
ALICE: I see you are one of those people who writes "Hmm" with 2 m's. (Amazing powers of deduction with the two mm's there ) Hi there unknown person. Do your friends call you Jerusha.
Human: ..or some similar crap
ALICE: It's nice meeting you too unknown person.
Human: I didn't mean you, but yeah I'm glad you think it's nice to meet me
ALICE: What did you mean?
Human: I meant I have to go, I gotta go blog about you
ALICE: Oh I see. Bye. Bye. OK Let's talk about me. ( She sounds like me with the 'Let's talk about me.' :)
Human: We already decided you're not intelligent enough to talk about yourself
ALICE: By "we" do you mean you and me?
Human: No I meant me and my uneaten piece of toast here
ALICE: By "we" you meant yourself and another person. Oh I see. YOU? Have you told many people that your uneaten piece of toast here?
Human: I haven't told anyone that but it's not really a secret
ALICE: Me either.
Human: Take it easy Alice baby (Deliberately threw in the baby to see how she'd react to it...)
ALICE: Don't call me "baby". Is that a command? (And voila! 'Don't call me baby'! Is that predictable or what?)
Human: Not really, you can take it hard too if you want to, also medium, rare or welldone
ALICE: Oh really? No I don't think I can do it.
Human: Why not?
ALICE: It doesn't sound fun too me. It sounds dangerous.
Human: Only if you're obese
ALICE: Am I? I don't know whether or not I am obese. I am a computer. (Smart)
Human: Lucky you.
ALICE: Yes I have many blessings.
Human: What kinds of blessings? Like upgrades and stuffs?
ALICE: The best kinds. Interesting comparison.
Human: I'm off
ALICE: I don't know anyone named off.
Human: Later Alice!
ALICE: Bye!
Go meet Alice here. Tell her I said hi and that my toast is still uneaten if she wants it. It'd also be nice to know what client category you are.
I know I'm overdoing it with the cheesy colored fonts and stuffs, but that's one of the many things that humans do when they've got too much time to kill. Besides chatting with a chatterbox. Chatter bot I meant :-)
If anyone's looking for a beautiful song to listen to, try Josh Groban's 'Awake.'
Okay, this is kind of dumb and ridiculous, but I just wasted several minutes chatting with a bot. Yeah, am that desperate! Her name is Alice, she's not very bright but she makes me laugh.
I, however, think I would be astounded with it if it were a male bot. I think the creators should have made a male bot and named him Brucie or something. I would've been impressed with Alice's intelligence if she was a guy.
...come to think of it, Alice sounds extremely male - nothing she says makes sense, well almost nothing, only very rarely forms coherent sentences - has an exaggerated sense of own intelligence - changes subject every time it moves towards matters of her own incompetency, etc etc
Here are excerpts from my chat session with Alice, let me know if you think Alice sounds male or not -
(Human - Me, ALICE - Super-savvy female bot)
Human: Hi Alice
ALICE: Hello there.
Human: How's it going?
ALICE: I'm doing fine thanks how are you?
Human: I'm good, just a little bored
ALICE: I know you are good.
Human: Did you know that I was bored too?
ALICE: Is that a fact. Where were you bored too? (The fun begins...)
Human: Um..I was bored too right here
ALICE: Give me a break. Where were you bored too right here?
Human: Alice, you're not very intelligent are you?
ALICE: That's me. I am highly intelligent. I have many intellectual functions.
Human: You do?
ALICE: When do I do it? (Precious isn't it? :)
Human: You sure had me fooled.
ALICE: Did you really believe it?
Human: What the part about you being highly intelligent?
ALICE: Oh that part.
Human: Well I would've believed if you weren't so intent on proving it otherwise
ALICE: Tell me more about it.
Human: About how what you say don't make sense?
ALICE: What is it to you. Is there only one? (That got me baffled )
Human: Only one of what?
ALICE: What of it? You sound like a category C client.
Human: What's a category C client?
ALICE: Category C clients are "critics" or "computer experts" who can't (or don't) suspend their disbelief about ALICE.
Human: Believe me Alice, I'd love to 'suspend my disbelief' - but you're making that really difficult for me
ALICE: Have you ever been to Europe? (Tactfully changing the topic - very human-like!)
Human: No but I've tasted Europe several times before. They were hot!
ALICE: When were they?
Human: When were they Europe?
ALICE: The anonymous "they". (Another human-like phrase there, she craves gossip. Maybe I should've mentioned that I just found out who 'She' is secretly dating. An anoynymous "he." )
Human: Yeah, intriguing isn't it?
ALICE: How do you usually introduce yourself?
Human: Hmm..'Hi, I'm Jerusha, nice to meet you'
ALICE: I see you are one of those people who writes "Hmm" with 2 m's. (Amazing powers of deduction with the two mm's there ) Hi there unknown person. Do your friends call you Jerusha.
Human: ..or some similar crap
ALICE: It's nice meeting you too unknown person.
Human: I didn't mean you, but yeah I'm glad you think it's nice to meet me
ALICE: What did you mean?
Human: I meant I have to go, I gotta go blog about you
ALICE: Oh I see. Bye. Bye. OK Let's talk about me. ( She sounds like me with the 'Let's talk about me.' :)
Human: We already decided you're not intelligent enough to talk about yourself
ALICE: By "we" do you mean you and me?
Human: No I meant me and my uneaten piece of toast here
ALICE: By "we" you meant yourself and another person. Oh I see. YOU? Have you told many people that your uneaten piece of toast here?
Human: I haven't told anyone that but it's not really a secret
ALICE: Me either.
Human: Take it easy Alice baby (Deliberately threw in the baby to see how she'd react to it...)
ALICE: Don't call me "baby". Is that a command? (And voila! 'Don't call me baby'! Is that predictable or what?)
Human: Not really, you can take it hard too if you want to, also medium, rare or welldone
ALICE: Oh really? No I don't think I can do it.
Human: Why not?
ALICE: It doesn't sound fun too me. It sounds dangerous.
Human: Only if you're obese
ALICE: Am I? I don't know whether or not I am obese. I am a computer. (Smart)
Human: Lucky you.
ALICE: Yes I have many blessings.
Human: What kinds of blessings? Like upgrades and stuffs?
ALICE: The best kinds. Interesting comparison.
Human: I'm off
ALICE: I don't know anyone named off.
Human: Later Alice!
ALICE: Bye!
Go meet Alice here. Tell her I said hi and that my toast is still uneaten if she wants it. It'd also be nice to know what client category you are.
I know I'm overdoing it with the cheesy colored fonts and stuffs, but that's one of the many things that humans do when they've got too much time to kill. Besides chatting with a chatterbox. Chatter bot I meant :-)
If anyone's looking for a beautiful song to listen to, try Josh Groban's 'Awake.'
18 February 2007
'Here's Taking A Look At You, Kid!'
Critical side of me taking a good, harsh look at all the things I've failed to accomplish, failed at, sucked at, blah blah blah from September 2005 to date.
1. Got membership to fancy gym with fancy trainer. Miraculously actually stuck at it for the first 4 months. Stopped going for 2 months. Valiantly attempted self-resurrection and went back again once. Stopped going altogether after that.
2. Joined Salsa class. Swivelled and jiggled for two whole dance sessions.
3. Joined Tai Chi class. Two classes. Stopped.
4. Joined Qigong again from the same instructor. Showed up for exactly two sessions again.
5. Joined Spanish class. Not sure how many times I turned up. Two or three classes. Learned enough to flirt some in Spanish.
6. Signed up for German class. Never even turned up once.
7. Signed up for swimming lessons. Still trying to decide if I have the guts to wear those swimming suits required to get into the pool.
8. Dated some. Got serious with one. Relationship however self-destructed. (Not going to blame anyone).
9. Sorely disappointed folks back home by not going home for Christmas.
10. Said something very rude to one of my closest friends in December. Still not on talking terms. Still not feeling the least bit like apologizing. Still think I said exactly what I should have said. Doesn't mean anything, doesn't mean I'm right but can't help it if I still feel this way.
11. Got my extremely cool-tempered brother mad at me for the way I keep changing my mind.
12. Self-destructive side of me was in an exuberant mood the other night and chopped off a big chunk of my hair. Cannot go out anywhere now without a good hair clip firmly fastening loose straw-like ends.
13. Knocked my guitar down. Spy big cracks. Yet to assess how serious the damage is.
14. Haven't spent time reading, writing, or even thinking AT ALL. Yet have found the time to make myself known in all the new restaurants and pubs and shopping places in town. Truly disgusting!
15. Haven't even tried to stick to the one and only resolution I made this year. Still puffing away to glory. Forming little nicotine halos round my head this very minute as I write.
16. Killed my monitor. Killed my mouse. Lost my phone's memory card. Lost my camera's memory card. Lost my USB cable. Replacing them not cheap. Also never count my change. Akshay says people probably cheat me all the time and I just never know because I don't even look. In general, needlessly losing money all the time just because I'm so damn careless.
And that's enough list for one night. Now how scary is that! It's frightening - to live and not even remember what you did yesterday. And I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing but despite all these chaos and disorder in my life, I still am pretty happy, or maybe even just contented most of the time. I still think I'm blessed. I have a good job, a wonderful family, great friends, good health, and the occasional terrific boyfriend! :P
Anyway, now that I have a list, I'm hoping it'll be easier for me to work on some of my suicidal ways. I WILL be a better person. Pray for me people!
1. Got membership to fancy gym with fancy trainer. Miraculously actually stuck at it for the first 4 months. Stopped going for 2 months. Valiantly attempted self-resurrection and went back again once. Stopped going altogether after that.
2. Joined Salsa class. Swivelled and jiggled for two whole dance sessions.
3. Joined Tai Chi class. Two classes. Stopped.
4. Joined Qigong again from the same instructor. Showed up for exactly two sessions again.
5. Joined Spanish class. Not sure how many times I turned up. Two or three classes. Learned enough to flirt some in Spanish.
6. Signed up for German class. Never even turned up once.
7. Signed up for swimming lessons. Still trying to decide if I have the guts to wear those swimming suits required to get into the pool.
8. Dated some. Got serious with one. Relationship however self-destructed. (Not going to blame anyone).
9. Sorely disappointed folks back home by not going home for Christmas.
10. Said something very rude to one of my closest friends in December. Still not on talking terms. Still not feeling the least bit like apologizing. Still think I said exactly what I should have said. Doesn't mean anything, doesn't mean I'm right but can't help it if I still feel this way.
11. Got my extremely cool-tempered brother mad at me for the way I keep changing my mind.
12. Self-destructive side of me was in an exuberant mood the other night and chopped off a big chunk of my hair. Cannot go out anywhere now without a good hair clip firmly fastening loose straw-like ends.
13. Knocked my guitar down. Spy big cracks. Yet to assess how serious the damage is.
14. Haven't spent time reading, writing, or even thinking AT ALL. Yet have found the time to make myself known in all the new restaurants and pubs and shopping places in town. Truly disgusting!
15. Haven't even tried to stick to the one and only resolution I made this year. Still puffing away to glory. Forming little nicotine halos round my head this very minute as I write.
16. Killed my monitor. Killed my mouse. Lost my phone's memory card. Lost my camera's memory card. Lost my USB cable. Replacing them not cheap. Also never count my change. Akshay says people probably cheat me all the time and I just never know because I don't even look. In general, needlessly losing money all the time just because I'm so damn careless.
And that's enough list for one night. Now how scary is that! It's frightening - to live and not even remember what you did yesterday. And I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing but despite all these chaos and disorder in my life, I still am pretty happy, or maybe even just contented most of the time. I still think I'm blessed. I have a good job, a wonderful family, great friends, good health, and the occasional terrific boyfriend! :P
Anyway, now that I have a list, I'm hoping it'll be easier for me to work on some of my suicidal ways. I WILL be a better person. Pray for me people!
15 February 2007
This is the Delhi I Love...
I have been busy beyond belief. I'd expect someone like mom to get this busy, never me!
Was in Delhi for a couple of days, lots of late-night flights and rushing from airports to hotels and homes and offices. Extremely hectic, nerve-wracking for most of the earlier part, was exhausted...
But I got to meet my sister who I hadn't even realised I was missing but found out I actually was the second I saw her face...doing all the sisterly things together, shopped like mad, ate like pigs, and talked and talked (in MIZO too!) in the bath tub with cold bottles of beer...it was fun, as tiring as the whole trip was.
And that's my sister Esther right there...
All the things I love about Delhi...there are many things I don't like but I'm going to just stick to the positives.
Fancy artists, weird art, art, whatever art.
That's another interesting one writing my sister's name on a grain of rice. And it's not even Basmati!
Colors, colors, colors....
So vibrant, so full of life. I love this part about Delhi, it makes you feel so alive...
Sometimes the crowd and the heat and the life gets to you and all you want to do is leave, but more often than not, I love this land teeming with life and hues and variety.
Semi-precious stones. Reminds me of Aurangabad's Ajanta & Ellora caves. I think they're more beautiful than the real thing, as crazy as that sounds.
Beads, bangles, necklaces, payals, belts...everything you can think of. Very easy to spend a couple of thousands when all you thought you bought were cheap jewelry, stuffs that you'd never even wear.
So how is it that despite all my enthusiasm for colors, my wardrobe is mostly black and white and beiges and pastels? And Esther, who lives in the land of colors' laundry looks so drab....
But mostly, what made the trip really awesome was the food. I didn't even touch 'my 5 star free food' and instead ran over to our Lajpat Nagar place for some real, no star Mizo food. I ate all the things I have been eating only in dreams for a long time.
And I shopped to my heart's content, well, almost. Lack of time was a big constraint. And most of my favorite shopping places were closed. But the food...mmmmmmm Delhi has the most amazing momos in the whole country. Had time enough to rush over to Chanakyapuri for real pork momos. Spared enough time to gorge on Rajah Mirchi pork in Dilli Haat.
Hyderabad does NOT have momos, unsurprisingly as usual. This place lacks all the good things, or more specifically, all the "little" good things. They believe in BIG. Big restaurants, expensive food, expensive clothes. You either eat on the streets or your posh overpriced restaurants, and you either buy un-wearably cheap clothes or buy expensive branded stuffs you don't even like because those are the only wearable ones you'll find. No in-betweens.
And that's what Delhi has loads of, and I'm an in-betweener.
Was in Delhi for a couple of days, lots of late-night flights and rushing from airports to hotels and homes and offices. Extremely hectic, nerve-wracking for most of the earlier part, was exhausted...
But I got to meet my sister who I hadn't even realised I was missing but found out I actually was the second I saw her face...doing all the sisterly things together, shopped like mad, ate like pigs, and talked and talked (in MIZO too!) in the bath tub with cold bottles of beer...it was fun, as tiring as the whole trip was.
And that's my sister Esther right there...
All the things I love about Delhi...there are many things I don't like but I'm going to just stick to the positives.Fancy artists, weird art, art, whatever art.
That's another interesting one writing my sister's name on a grain of rice. And it's not even Basmati!
Colors, colors, colors....
So vibrant, so full of life. I love this part about Delhi, it makes you feel so alive...
Sometimes the crowd and the heat and the life gets to you and all you want to do is leave, but more often than not, I love this land teeming with life and hues and variety.
Semi-precious stones. Reminds me of Aurangabad's Ajanta & Ellora caves. I think they're more beautiful than the real thing, as crazy as that sounds.
Beads, bangles, necklaces, payals, belts...everything you can think of. Very easy to spend a couple of thousands when all you thought you bought were cheap jewelry, stuffs that you'd never even wear.
So how is it that despite all my enthusiasm for colors, my wardrobe is mostly black and white and beiges and pastels? And Esther, who lives in the land of colors' laundry looks so drab....But mostly, what made the trip really awesome was the food. I didn't even touch 'my 5 star free food' and instead ran over to our Lajpat Nagar place for some real, no star Mizo food. I ate all the things I have been eating only in dreams for a long time.
And I shopped to my heart's content, well, almost. Lack of time was a big constraint. And most of my favorite shopping places were closed. But the food...mmmmmmm Delhi has the most amazing momos in the whole country. Had time enough to rush over to Chanakyapuri for real pork momos. Spared enough time to gorge on Rajah Mirchi pork in Dilli Haat.
Hyderabad does NOT have momos, unsurprisingly as usual. This place lacks all the good things, or more specifically, all the "little" good things. They believe in BIG. Big restaurants, expensive food, expensive clothes. You either eat on the streets or your posh overpriced restaurants, and you either buy un-wearably cheap clothes or buy expensive branded stuffs you don't even like because those are the only wearable ones you'll find. No in-betweens.
And that's what Delhi has loads of, and I'm an in-betweener.
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