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.