Ahead

It’s that time of the year when we indulge in retrospection, introspection and prospection (one, either or all). Why now? What’s so great about 31st December? We could do it on any day of the year too; but perhaps the onset of a ‘new’ year gives rise to hope. And as you all know, hope is a good thing. Maybe this newness gives us an impetus to try and set things straight, to mend our ways, or explore unchartered avenues. But of course, for that we need to reflect on the year gone by.

Breakfast

The sunlight reflecting off the steel tumbler, which held the piping hot tea.
The steel plate which held the puttu, freshly delivered from the puttu kutti. Staring on as Amma poured a generous serving of kadala curry. And as the waft of the curry and the steam from the puttu rose from the plate, creating patterns in the air, she curiously blew them and dug into it hungrily.

****
She stared at her bowl. Yep, cereals it is. Cornflakes and milk. That's wholesome too. She said to herself.

****

Image Courtesy: http://heyithinkthisway.wordpress.com

For the uninitiated, puttu is the national food of Kerala; a regular breakfast item! If I had to explain what it is,  let me quote what I read once in an Emirates menu (as you guessed, it was a flight back from the Gelf) - Steamed rice cake, garnished with coconut gratings and served with chick peas sautéed in onions.

For the Malayalis - nammude puttum kadala curry-um! It's also had with banana, papadam, etc. and variants of puttu include those made with wheat flour, tapioca flour and so on.

No, it's not that this post is entirely about me. I think this is a 'common' memory from childhood, for a lot of us. I used to love puttu a lot. In fact, I used to make it as breakfast on weekends regularly, so much so that now I am quite tired of it. But I am game for puttu any time, if I get it with chicken curry or fish curry! *wide grin*

P.S. Wanted to label this post, and then realised I hadn't labelled any post with 'food'. And that surprises me. I hadn't written anything on food yet?!

Book Browsing

It had been a while since I actually visited a bookstore. Flipkart ensured that the kua came to the pyaasa, instead of vice versa. And as convenient as it maybe to order books online, the charm of actually walking into a store and browsing books is irreplaceable. The joy of randomly picking a book, checking out the summary at the back cover, reading about the author, flipping the pages and judging the book by its cover (quite literally!) is a pleasure of sorts. And so, I went to Reliance TimeOut a couple of days back.

Tangled

A convoluted mass of thoughts. She tried to pick through the noodles that was her mind, with reasoning as her chopsticks.

She tried. Real hard.
They failed. She would manipulate and manoeuvre. There were times when she almost managed. But they would slide off the sticks; the very second she thought that she had got it right. Practice, she thought. She had to get better at it. Some day.

Or maybe she had to change her chopsticks.

New blog!

Hey there. It's been quite some while of inaction here. Blame my laziness. And the fact that I wasn't free for the past four weekends. But now that I am here, I have an announcement to make. I have started a *new* blog.

It's dedicated to music and it's called: what-i-hear.blogspot.com
Yes, simply put it's all about what I hear - the kind of songs I like, why I like it and so on. I am a true-blue Mallu and so you will find me share/discuss old Malayalam songs (the new ones are not much to write about; well there are some noteworthy ones, I don't deny it). As also Hindi songs - old and new. So if any of you feel like checking it out - I've already given you the link. I've started off with a Malayalam song; but don't worry I have a huge list of Hindi favourites as well. So it's all going to come there soon. Do go ahead and let me know your views. So long.

P.S. Hope all of you are doing good. What's been keeping you busy?

Perspective

You really don't know how good you have it. You really don't.

You complain about your long working hours. You complain about how you have no ‘life’. You hate the city you are in. You hate the fact that you are far away from home. You are upset ‘coz you have zilch savings at the end of the month. You hate that you miss your parents. You feel sorry because you feel lonely. You feel empty. You wonder about how your life has become ‘boring’. You have a zillion things that don't seem right. Somehow it appears that the whole world is conspiring against you.

And yet, you must be thankful. You must be thankful for your boring life. Someone above hasn’t rocked your boat. Just yet.

Never ever think that you’ve got it bad. There are problems in your life; and they do matter. But every time you think of how life could be better – remember, it could be far worse.


Life is not fair. But it is not fair to anyone. That makes life fair.

Or so they say. I have my doubts about it, though.

Dil

Dil-e-naadaan –  itna ummeed karta kyun hai,


Dil-e-naadaan –  itna ummeed karta kyun hai,
.
.
Jo ek nazar na dekhe, unpe marta kyun hai?

 ****
Seene mein dabi aandhi, dekhe na samjhe woh;


Seene mein dabi aandhi, dekhe na samjhe woh;
.
.
Sabse hai bekhabar;  itna woh nasamajh kyun hai?

 ****
Kehne ko hai bahut kuch, par lavz na mile;


Kehne ko hai bahut kuch, par lavz na mile;
.
.
Ankahee in baaton pe mujhe itna afsos kyun hai?

****

I didn't know what to call this. Shayari? Poetry? Looks like it's something in between. Or call it senseless scribbles, if you will.

Blog Award!

*Drum Roll*

Much to my shock (yes, it's beyond 'surprise'!), someone *actually* thought that my blog could be given an award. And much like La femme Nirvana , who gave me this award - this is the first (and maybe, only) time for me. So yeah, I am going to show-off! (This might be the only glory that will be bestowed on this humble, poorly marketed blog - so yeah, suck it up!)

As the tradition dictates, I have to tag the person who gave me this award - Thank you so much Nirvana. It might have seemed ungracious of me, not having done this earlier. But thanks to frequent visits to homeland, an unexpected back ache, work, internet issues et al - I wasn't very active in the online world. So here I am now, putting this post up!

And continuing with the tradition/routine of the blog awards, here's something more about me:


Seven Random Facts about You:

#1 I can't be random. Yes, this declaration serves two purposes. One, it highlights that I've been trying really hard to come up with 'seven random things' about me. I really am struggling to think of quirky things about me. But turns out I am a real bore. Spontaneity/randomness really isn't my thing. Maybe it's the Virgoan traits at play here. But yeah, I am the kind of person who finds comfort in certainty rather than ambiguity. Coming back, the second purpose this serves is - it leaves me with only having to struggle with 'Six random facts' about me.
I am clever, aren't I?


#2 When I was a kid, I had this dream - that I'd author a Booker Prize winning novel. Yeah, I had heard of this Prize; wasn't too sure what it meant back then - but knew that it was for Literature. And so that was my aspiration. Can't say it 'is'. Or maybe when you grow up, you give up on some things, 'coz you think they are impossible.So Man Booker Prize (as it's called now) or not, to author a book, indeed is my dream.

#3 I really wish that I'd learnt to sing or dance. I was too darn lazy, as a child. I enrolled for keyboard classes, and left it mid-way. Had tried a shot at learning music; that also fizzled out very soon. Sad. Really. I love to dance - have done a bit of it during school/college days. But well, that's a lost dream. I think I am too old to learn either; or is there no such thing?

#4 I really want to give a shot at bungee jumping one day. Won't that be such a thrill! And paragliding too. And maybe float in the air, in a hot air balloon.  No, this is not a 'new found' desire of trying out some adventure sport, subsequent to having watched Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. I'd always fancied doing one/all of these. Just for the heck of it.

#5 My dream 'job' would be to work at a Library or Book store. My idea of bliss is a world full of books - the wonderful scent of printed pages, tomes of books neatly lined up. Each book is a world of its own - so imagine how many worlds surround you! Even now, when I walk into a book store, I really wish I could buy ALL the books and have ALL the time in the world to keep reading.

#6 I love chicken. Yes, I do! I could eat chicken in any form (as long as it's not raw!). And chances are, that six out of 10 times, I will end up ordering chicken biriyani. That's one thing I love. And nothing like my mom's biriyani. Love it. Period.

#7 I am the clumsiest person you'd ever meet. Call me butterfingers, if you will. There are plenty of glasses, bowls, bottles et al I've broken, much to my mom's agony. Add to it that I am careless/forgetful, and it's a disaster. So I don't know where I placed my keys or my glasses, I can't remember where I left my purse (only few days back, I'd forgotten to take my purse from office - with my money, debit card et al!). It's a major peeve for my sister and mom. And they leave no chance to bully me about it; so much so that if something's missing or broken, they assume I am the culprit. Sheesh!


My Favourite Song
It's a crime to ask me this! I could make a 'collection' of my 'favourite' songs - it's not just one. So I won't pick one. But, one thing is for sure - I have to also understand the lyrics, if I have to love a song. And I appreciate the words in a song, as much or more than the tune/melody.

My Favourite Dessert
Again, not one. I am a person with a sweet tooth. So needless to say, I can't pick one. But anything with chocolate should do the trick! I also like Indian sweets a lot - don't know if they qualify as 'dessert'. And oh yeah, caramel pudding. Yum.

What pisses me off
Show-offs, senseless chit-chats, sycophants, matlabi type ke log, the really 'girly' girls (I am not one! Really).

Biggest Fear
It would be snakes! Watching one even on the TV gives me the chills. I used to have dreams of snakes chasing me, surrounding me, trying to attack me. And believe me, it was horrible. I've had a few brushes in the past (not quite close though). And it gives me the creeps.

Best Feature
My sense of humour/wit. I do think that I am good with quips/retorts. And I am a good conversationalist, if I choose to be one. Or maybe people who know me should say that.

Everyday Attitude
The para you find below my blog title. I read that somewhere and instantly knew it had to be here. That pretty much sums it up, I guess.

What is perfection?
A myth. If everything was perfect, you wouldn't evolve or improve. It's something we aspire, but will never attain.

Guilty pleasure
Umm, food, perhaps? I love food. Sadly, it comes with calories. And all the tasty ones are fried!

Give the Award to 15 bloggers
That's too huge a number, according to me. So I am passing it onto a couple of bloggers I like, in no particular order:

Arjun: A friend, who writes awesome reviews on good ol' Bollywood movies. His interests also include the arts, music and politics. And if you'd read his articles (yes, he's published too!), you wouldn't believe he's a 20 something.

Mansa: I know her through the intranet blog, at our company. And that brought me to her external blog. She writes the most insanely beautiful poems/stories. There's so much mystery, depth and feelings in her poems. It often leaves you wistful.

Spaceman Spiff: Fellow Virgoan, and prolific blogger. I came across her blog after the note she'd written about Mallu Food, on FB became hugely popular.

aurumpater: Another Mallu from the Gelf with a cracko sense of humour. Should write more often.

Scribblings on the Wall:  Her random thoughts are good - often a case of less is more. Short and effective.

P.S. I find Malayalis write better - this observation, I came to, both at the external blogs and my Co. intranet blogs. Are we all gifted writers*? Anyone else feel the same?

* Yes, I counted myself in too. Muhahahaha.

Meet

I knew it, somewhere.

In the back of my head.  A feeling in my heart.

We had to meet.

Now as I stare into your eyes and taken in the vision that is you – it becomes clearer.

I cannot fathom how I can be so certain, when we are meeting for the first time ever. I haven’t seen you or heard of you before; I don’t recognize you from the past. And yet, I am sure I was meant to meet you.

I wasn’t surer of anything in my life. Than this moment.

The comfort – of being in familiar arms.

The gentle warmth – of the sun at daybreak.

The trust – like a friend’s promise.

I feel it already.

I look at you. You look at me. We search for something. Perhaps, in each other. But what?

You smile. My search ends.

 *******

Ok, let me frankly say that this is quite an impromptu post. I don't know the why or how or what of this post . Left open to your interpretation (and mine).

Toodles! 

Salt N’ Pepper – Seasoning it right!

*Spoiler Alert*

I have discussed some things from the movie, and although it’s not a suspense genre, you might hate me for having letting you in on it. So if you want to watch it, don’t read!

I didn’t go home, despite having a long weekend lined up, with the Independence Day thrown in. (And no, I am not explaining why! I am tired of repeating it to all!) A friend told me of the movie Salt N’ Pepper hitting Big Cinemas. And so I headed for the theatre. As the credits rolled, I almost instantly regretted not going home. Why, you ask?

From the Heart

On a chilly, windy night at a sleepy Railway Station, Amar Varma asks for a maachis. His hopes of lighting a cigarette went in vain, but it unexpectedly kindled something else – love.

Ishq par zor nahi, hai yeh woh aatish Ghaalib;

Jo lagaye na lage, aur bujhaye na bane.

He would soon find out. 

Ahead

There it lay in front of her – hillocks and hills smothered with nature’s bounty of greenery. The rains had provided much needed succour to them. The greens broke out in all its vigour, and carpeted the previously ailing lands; lands which hitherto seemed incapable of hosting so much life, now teeming and bursting at its seams.

It was as if nature had prepared a palette of colours to enjoy – the earthy, wet browns; the variant hues of verdant and the skies ranging from pale blue to dark greys, interspersed with patches of white and light. And she stared right ahead, as far as her eyes could take her. And suddenly, it occurred to her – she was staring at her life ahead too. Things so near to you – clear in all its detail; and those far ahead – beyond your comprehension. You never know what lies ahead; all you can do is enjoy where you are; look around – smell the roses and live in the here and now. The future ahead is as hazy as the horizon you can see. With time, maybe you will visit those hills, conquer some or be conquered by some. Some day, you will reach there. And when you will look back, the yesterday will also seem hazy. As hazy as the tomorrow appears today.

Crazy, she thought. She went back to her cubicle, unlocked her computer and resumed staring at the screen.

Drenched

It touched her; nay, penetrated her inner self. Drenched her soul.

It soaked her to the bones. The rains were no stranger to her. The water felt its way down her body – like a lover familiar with her terrains. Huge drops falling from up above. And even as it stung on hitting the body, she gladly embraced it. A pain less painful than the ones she knew of.

The downpour so tremendous, that it was impossible to open her eyes. She lifted her head to the heavens above, and felt the rain hurt her face. Water entered her eyes and mouth – and yet, she stood amused.

The rains were washing down the dust  and more – her bad memories, sins, misgivings, and mistrust.

She felt liberated. She felt released from the clutches of a horrid past. She was washing down the bad and the ugly. She felt pure. Clean. Ready for a new start. A new beginning.

Some laughed, some looked apprehensive and the others were amused to see a girl with her hands spread out, getting drenched. She couldn’t care less. She was enjoying the rain.

12 Million Killed!

Goodbye!

A: Goodnight

B: Take care

A: Take care 

B: Goodnight

A: Cya

B: Sweet dreams

A: You too

B: Cya

A: Keep in touch

B: You too

A: Goodbye

B: Keep in touch

A: Cya

B: ------ 

A: ------

*Relieved. Both parties finally close their chat windows*

Has this happened to you? If it has (or it hasn't)... read on.

I have encountered the scenario above in many forms. Of course, it's not written in full, like I've illustrated; people in general prefer textese versions which go like 'gn', 'sd', 'kit', 'ttyl' and so on. But there's this reluctance in closing off a conversation. I don't know if it's a cultural thing, but I am guessing it is. We are bad at signing off!

If you doubt that for once, think of the last time you had a guest at home. They'd first get up from their seats, swearing that they have to push off. You do too, and then you are all making a conversation at the door! Then again they are going to leave, and yet... the group now converges at the front verandah. Few minutes later, the goodbyes are said, handshakes given, people reach the gates (while you thank the stars).... and yet, we end up stuck at the gate! You talk some more, exchange a few more jokes and laughs, the guests finally enter their vehicles. He starts it, and lo, someone's reminded of something else. The engine is turned off, you are peering into their car and exchanging few juicy details about whatever-that-got-them-to-stop-their-damn-car! Finally, when they do take off, you are left wondering if they'd make a come back! Athithi tum kab jaaoge? No, I don't have anything against guests - just that sometimes, they never seem to be leaving!

Seriously, we just can't do a one-time, fine job of saying 'bye'. If you still have doubts, check out the airports or railway stations or the bus stands. You have a whole battalion of people to send off one person. And everyone's perpetually saying byes - as you board the bus or the train; as you check into the airport and go to check-in your baggage. Extended are the bye-bye rituals too. You are being handed your lunch/dinner (train journey); or being constantly reminded of passport/visa (plane journey). Beta, medicines sab hai na? Theek na lage, toh khaa lena. Aur haan, pani ki bottle hai na tumhare paas?  Sometimes prayers are being said, pujas are being done, you are being mauled (read: kissed, hugged, patted, hair ruffled, shoulder rubbed, cheeks pulled, petted......list is endless).

Wistful byes, those are. A collective sigh at the fading vision of the person who's going; hand waves in the air. The train's long left, the plane's took off, the bus has sped on. And yet, they are still waiting. Looking at the path you just left.

I think the online phenomenon I mentioned above is a spill-over of this real life scenario. We just can't say bye; atleast not too well. We are forever closing the chat, only to end up saying a few more phrases neither the sender or receiver means. It comes to us automatically. Like some unwritten protocol - "While you chat, you must deliver a set of standard, key phrases - you should not skip these phrases at any cost - goodbye, sd, kit, gn, bbye'".

Someone once asked 'Where's the good in goodbye?' Now you know there isn't!

And yes, why am I rambling on and on about ending a conversation and not doing it myself..... Goodbye!

P.S. There, I ended it.

P.S.2 Shucks, I missed out on the standard phrases, so here it is: Goodbye, kit, sd, gn

P.S.3 Have I missed out any other good bye scenarios? If I have, let me know!

The Golden Girl

Mohini, Mohini, Mohini…*

If Helen of Troy was the face that could launch a thousand ships, she was the face that could launch a thousand movies. When this* chant was inserted as an intro for a film song, little did they know that it would catapult the actress to stardom. She later on went to prove that she was a mohini indeed, an enchantress nonpareil; the real ‘acid’ that would burn a thousand hearts. If these many references can’t get you to guess whom I’m talking of, then go take a hike to the next hill!  There is only one of her kind – the inimitable Madhuri!

Rewind and Replay

There are some memories from childhood one never forgets. The freedom, the innocence, the fun, the games.... and the goof-ups! Although I was a very 'decent' child, who wouldn't get into trouble  - yes, an achcha bachcha of sorts - I have done some inanely idiotic things, which will be written in golden letters in the annals of my family history. Without further ado, I let you be the judge. 
Remember dear reader, all these events occured when I was 6-10 years of age. They do NOT in any way reflect my current mental stability. Please do not have any doubts, I am much older and much wiser (?) since then.

An Ode - To one of my favourites!

My Flag's on Fire - Guest Article

I bet everyone's on a high since India's victory last night.
And then I came across a fellow blogger's blog on InfyBlogs. And I felt that it just HAD to be shared. So here's presenting to you - Vivek Muralidharan's article: My Flag's on Fire.
Thanks Vivek for letting me borrow your words (and thoughts!)

Alpa Viraam - Part 4

She stopped stirring the milk on boil. Someone had rung the bell.

Alpa Viraam - Part 3

She opened the door to find a woman.


"What do you want?" She was annoyed. Who is this now?

Alpa Viraam - Part 2

Kousalya supraja Rama poorva sandhya pravarthathe

Uthishta narasardoola karthavyam daivamahnikam

Uthishtothishta Govinda uthishta garudadhwaja

Uthishta kamalakantha thrilokyam mangalam kuru....

Alpa Viraam - Part 1

It is white all around. Clean. Pure. Sterile.

To you, with Love - Part 4: Finale

I would love to be that scent that lingers in your life. Forever.

Waiting for our ‘happily ever after’…


Love always,
Christine.

******

To you, With Love - Part 3

Dear Paul,


Looking back two weeks, I can’t believe that it happened! I am engaged to you. But I can’t be dreaming – the wedding band on my finger is proof. Much of it happened in a blink of the eye, I feel that it has yet to sink in.

To you, With Love - Part 2

Dear Paul,

How are you? I couldn’t wait for another week to pen you a letter. Can you believe that we have exchanged a dozen letters and more already?

To you, With Love - Part 1

Hi Paul,

How are you? I find this a bit queer. I mean, I am not used to writing letters. But this is the way it is going to be, isn’t it? So here it is. My first letter to you.

Glowing Embers - Part 3: Finale

Something just did not feel right. He was setting up his cart, and then he saw her. What he saw seemed to confirm his premonition.


There she was, walking as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. The bleary eyes and puffy eyelids told him a tale of a night drowned in tears. She was no longer in a hurry. She did not care if her dupatta fell off. The once furious pace had now settled to that of a snail’s. She missed her regular bus. But it didn’t seem to matter. She stood at the bus stop, as if in a trance. Hadn’t anybody at home noticed her behaviour?

Glowing Embers - Part 2

The next day, she was on time, as usual. He couldn’t but help notice a glint of happiness on her face.
And then he noticed her dress. The maroon salwar he had ironed a few days back. He tried to remember the houses he had visited in the recent past, and from which she might be. And then it struck him – Mr. Sheshadri! That meant she was from the Sheshadri household. She must be their daughter, he thought. The Sheshadris had started giving their clothes for ironing of late. They were one among his new ‘clients’. He mentally made a note to take special care of their clothes and give extra attention to them.

Glowing Embers - Part 1

He was waiting for her. This is when she'd usually pass by. Where is she?

Before he could complete the thought, she appeared. Walking in a hurry, shoving her books into her bag; even as she was adjusting her dupatta over her shoulders. She looked very impatient and angry, as if something was wrong. She was taking long strides; probably to reach the bus stop. Maybe she's late and that's getting her all worked up. As she took out her purse to take the bus fare, the coins tumbled out and rolled in all directions possible. She let out a loud grunt and bent down to pick up the change. He ran towards her. He deftly picked up all the coins and handed over. "Thanks" she muttered; silently relieved yet staring at him. After all, why is an ishthri boy so eager to help?

Dhobi Ghat (Mumbai Diaries) - A Review

An Aamir Khan movie and no noise? Just can't happen. And so, there was a lot of buzz about this movie – still is there – though it might have become of a different kind, post its release. I am not sure if this is going to be a movie ‘review’ or just my thoughts on the movie, given that so many people felt disappointed, bored, cheated (waste of money, they said) and so on. But heck, this is a free country and though my review won’t be as valued as a certain Masand’s, Adarsh’s or Qureshi’s – here I am, giving you my take on the same.

Change

How can it ever the same be,

'Tis a different you, 'tis a different me.

Holding on to times of yore,

I missed you more than ever before.

But the you of yesterday, I cannot find,

And me? I am more a stranger to my mind.

The river of time has flown ahead,

Taken us along with it, I dread.

How can it ever the same be,

‘Tis a different you, ‘tis a different me.

The Wait

                                                        ********Mush alert********

He is making me wait. Really hard. And I know he's out there.
Anything won (or received) easily won't be valued. So he takes his time. 

It's maybe my age, my stage or my hormones.  And as mad as it may seem to admit, I am thinking about him. The him whom I don't know yet. The him with whom it will not be 'you' and 'me' but .... 'us'.

It is most definitely normal ( I believe) to dream and hope about that someone. So am I. Funnily enough, a year and more ago, I was telling my parents that I don't want to get married. That I am happy being single. That marriage can wait. Owing to many things now (which includes seeing wedding/engagement snaps of friends, attending the same of some; watching friends with kids who are ALREADY two years old and more!).... I am dreaming of mine. And now that I want it to happen, it's not. Sigh. Seriously folks, watch what you are wishing for. Could actually come true.

Let me say, I am NOT desperate! (Read that again... there is a NOT inserted in capital letters). Na-ha.... But most definitely I want it to happen. My views have changed! God are you listening? 

So whilst I would have dreamt of a prince charming on a horse, coming and sweeping me off my feet before, I am fine if he catches an auto and comes. Anything... as long as he's coming. You listening dude? I am talking to you!


Shucks.... imagine me writing this for one and all to read? I can't believe I am letting this madness float on cyberspace. But I really don't care. What if he's reading it? Or perhaps one day he will...

That's enough of me. More thoughts on the same sound better in my head. And there it shall remain.

The wait is on. And I would like to leave you with a song. This is probably what I am saying to him. Now.

Psst... couldn't embed the video in the blog. Click and follow!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZaI1CD8YB4c

------------------------------
Song: Abhi nahi aana
Singer/Artist: Sona Mohapatra

Abhi Nahi Aana Sajna,
Mohe Thoda Marne De
Intezar Karne De...
Abhi Nahi Aana Sajna...

Bhejiyo Sandesha
Aap Nahi Aana;
Thode Door Rehke
Mohe Tarsana
Abhi To Main Chahun, Sari Sari Raat Jagna...
Abhi Nahi Aana Sajna...

Ruk Ruk Aana
Dheere Dheere Chalna,
Bhoolna Dagaria, Raste Badalna
Nahi Abhi Mohe,Garwa Nahi Hey Lagna...

Abhi Na Jagao
Bane Raho Sapna,
Abhi San-Mukh Na Lao Mukh Apna
Abhi To Main Chahun, Aass Lagaye Rakhna...

Burn bright!

You know, maybe the most insignificant of actions reveal a lesson. And though I don't want to sound all high and mighty, imparting my gyaan to the world here, I feel like sharing it. It's just a thought that brought a lot of after thought in me.



How many of you have lighted a lamp? Any kind...the small diyas, to the conventional lamps at homes? If you have, probably you've observed something. Fill the lamp with oil to the brim, and burn a wick. Chances are that it will burn dim. Instead, pour oil about till half of the lamp, and try burning a wick. It will burn brighter.


As I lighted the lamp one evening and observed this, I felt there's a lesson here. If life provides you with aplenty, you will never shine (quite literally). The very abundance is a distraction from reaching your excellence. The oil here almost snuffs the wick, because it's upto the brim. And so also in life, if you have enough and more of anything... would you really try hard? You would be like the wick swimming in the pool of plenty, little realising that it's actually preventing you from burning bright.


Instead look at the half-filled lamp. The wick there makes the most out of each drop of oil and burns brightest. It utilises whatever it has of the resources to spread light. The lack of abundance makes it try harder to burn and.... it does.


It's easier if you translate it to real life. I, for one, have seen that people with abundance of wealth, love or food don't quite value what they have. They believe they have got all they need. The most industrious of people are those who don't have plenty. Their lamps are not brimming. And they set out to burn bright.


The desire to strive for more, the need to try harder, the dissatifaction with status quo will drive you. Sometimes the best of you comes out not when everything is going right; but when everything is going wrong.


So what did I pray for New Year? To leave my lamp half filled.

Happy New Year?

It has been customary for me to write a blog on New Year's eve or New Year's day, ever since I started blogging. Yes, it's been a while since I started it.... way back in June, 2006, I believe (yep, just confirmed it by checking my blog history). Four and a half long years since I've been here.

Don't even remember why I started blogging and I am amazed that I've managed to keep this going even now. Given my laziness and tendency to let things fizzle out, the blog's existence to this date has been a miracle of sorts.Well, other things I've tried to pursue include a diet and exercise/weight loss plan...that ended up with me with reduced confidence in the same, rather than a reduced waistline.

So this year, I don't intend to make plans. I have tried that all my life. Never worked. So this year I am letting the powers that be script my future. Maybe the higher ups have a bird's eye-view of the plan of my life, and know when to piece the puzzle next.

Having said that, this year has been remarkable and terrible in many ways. That's how the cookie crumbles any way. I landed my first job, got my first salary, stood on my own two feet. Was tranplanted from the land of Chamundeshwari to the abode of Mangala Devi (I have a theory there; I think I move to the land of Devis! The land where supreme reincarnates of Durga/Shakti resides.... go women power!).

Saw boring days on bench at Infy (for those outside IT industry, 'on bench' means that you are jobless and without a project! It doesn't meant that I was made to sit on a bench instead of one of the swivelling chairs!), to over-worked days, and work on weekends too. There were times when I was elated, days when I was depressed, days when I was bored, days when I was excited. Days when I felt lonely. I think I am yet to get over the fact that campus life is history. There won't be hostels, noise, fun and people. Things have changed, life has moved on. Now conversations with friends veer to marriages, family, investments, tax, savings, cost of living, commitments, work, jumping jobs, work-life balance (!), and so on. Not that you won't talk of Sheila ki jawani or the latest cricket stats. But then, there's going to be a sea-change. And it's gonna start one wave at a time.

And so they say the New Year has arrived. And I do wish to experience something new this year. I've quit taking resolutions and so, this year I don't have to pretend to change anything in my life or break any self-made promises. Can only hope that the best is yet to come. And oh boy, I intend to continue to blog. However less (like 3 posts in 2009) or abundant (like 26 posts in 2010) it maybe. My space in cyberspace is here to stay! So here's looking forward to 2011 with as much hope I can muster. Let the days begin!