Friday, January 30, 2009
1. Veg Tandoori platter
I really really really am craving for it. Cauliflowers, paneer tikka and potatoes all smothered in a kind of tandoori chilly paste oh my god I'm going to faint. This must be true love because it has occupied the most dominant portion of my brain for the last THIRTY HOURS. I am clearly insanely fixated.
Something is very wrong with me. I told you I needed therapy. Oh mind, distract please!
2. My bed
I cannot get enough of you. No, I just can't.
3. My pillow
4. My quilt
During the course of highly stressful counselling sessions, I formulated this plan to get that person out of your head when you can't get them out of your life (or move to another planet). This is for the cases of unrequited crushes/crushes you don't want to work out/crushes you CAN'T see working out/or just plain getting over someone when time doesn't do its trick
1. Decide. It's now or never. Do you WANT to get over this person? Sometimes, some people purely enjoy the rush of a crush and don't actually want to let go. In such a case, you need to give yourself ONE TIGHT SLAP and tell yourself to SNAP OUT OF IT.
2. Make a list (IN YOUR HEAD ONLY) of all the reasons why this person will be so mismatched in your life. He'll/She'll be the yellow in your orange, the whatever jaal colour you hate with whatever sublime colour you will. He/She is NOT the missing jigsaw piece. Maybe it's the fact that you're so inseparable. Get a dog. Maybe it's their sense of humour that you love. So watch Vadivelu videos on youtube.
3.Don't call or message. Really. Out of sight slowly becomes out of mind.
4. Immerse yourself in movies, music, food, work, friends and YOURSELF! Movies work best (particularly Bollywood early 2000's trash/comedies/Pink Panther). Music is a close second. (DO NOT listen to any kind of love song. You will always twist the words around to fit your situation. Rammstein/Dapaan Koothu will do.) Food is not usually advisable but what else do you do when you go out? Especially in Madras!
Yourself-very important. Treat yourself to a hot bath, a body scrub and some Vaseline. Run like nobody's business...RUN from your crush! SLEEEEP. Maybe when you wake up, it'll be a bad dream.
5. Tell your friends not to talk about it. Seriously. The name is prohibited. Enough. Over. Talk about how hot Hrithik is in 'Jodhaa-Akbar' (I cannot think of any female equivalent for this. Sorry, guys)
6. Get busy with other people.
This is not as indecent as it sounds. It just means you have to start realising that other people exist. Like your FRIENDS, hello? Hang out with them. Let them make you laugh. Spend time with your parents. Talk to new people. SIGHT different people. Watch TV and continue the same.
So there it is, mes amis? Easy as pie (NOT). Strict adherence to the regime will 95% lead in desired results.
The rest 5%? Maybe it's true love. Go make a movie out of it.
Okay I saw.
And I prepared myself to be unexpecting as I sat in the theatre with a bag full of very cheesed out popcorn, my three insanely raucous friends beside me and my equally chatterbox of a mother. We sat in the jam packed theatre. I was already enjoying myself thanks to a super-long promo of Dilli 6 and some rather interesting PSAS. Hmmm. I'm getting into the advertising groove.
And the movie started. It didn't seem very captivating at first but then...
I was blown away by the scene where the kids are playing on the airport runway and 'O Saya' fuses into the scene, full-throttle. After that, I was hooked, goosebumps and all.
You cannot deny the power of this film. It is not a perfect logical, entirely plausible story. It is not an entertainer. But it takes those very values that we hold on to despite the chaos of our world-the values of hope, love, truth, beauty and infuses them in a tale of good v/s evil. And who can resist the triumph of the underdog?
It's like a great painting. It may seem grotesque to some, poetry to another. And it has different interpretations for everyone. But the end of the day, you can't really ignore it because there's something we identify with it-its pattern, colour or because it resembles a beacon of hope that makes you think life is worth all its nonsense.
The music? WOW (I really can't think of a better word) It makes me proud to just breathe the same air and be in the same city as the musical GENIUS. It MAKES the pain, the beauty, the catharsis of the movie.
The cast? Outstanding. Dev Patel is chillingly real as Jamal. And the kids? Oh my God. They can rip your heart into pieces. Where have they been all these years??? Most of the first half was filled with disturbing images of children living so off the edge because they have no other choice.
The second half was slightly too fairytale-ish for me but it was gratifying enough. I think I'd kill myself if it turned out otherwise. It's not life-changing. It's not art. It's a feel-good film with an interesting non-linear narrative, good dialogue, amazing music and an impeccable cast.
The film overall doesn't define India as such. It could be any story actually. But it does imply the range of the colour spectrum it is.
Overall, a must watch. For the kids. For Dev Patel. For A.R.Rahman. For hope.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Going to watch the much-acclaimed super-hyped film of the season that's becoming a fever across the globe. Ha ha, I don't even have to say the name. It's become a byword, a conversation-starter, a conversation in-betweener and overall compulsory watch for everyone. Caught bits of it in office once but am going to properly watch it on the big screen this evening. I hope it doesn't turn out to be like what happened to me and 'Taare Zameen Par'. I expected sooooo much that it I was slightly disappointed. Of course, it was a great film, so different and exploratory- a breath of fresh air. (And of course I cried a bucketload during the song 'Maa') But I didn't enjoy it as much as I expected-because of the over hype.
But I'm sure this won't disappoint.
Musicwise- the world should hear A.R.Rahman's OTHER masterpieces! They would give a him an Oscar every year for those. But my pick of this flick(maybe I shouldn't use such a downgrading term) is 'O Saya'. Perhaps it's all because of the train-like beat, earlier used (at a much slower pace) in my all-time favourite energy-booster 'Chaiyya chaiyya'. There's a certain delicateness to 'Latika's theme' (the humming version) but I don't really like 'Jai Ho'. Maybe if I watch the movie, it might all change.
Anyway, will come back and tell you what I felt. Or probably not. EVERYONE has an opinion about it and you're probably as tired of it being everywhere as I am. Though I'm not at all tired to hear about 'Dev D' and 'Dilli 6' (DYING to watch those!!)
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Would we dream of our bed all weeklong, clinging to our blankets in the mornings, refusing to open our eyes and cursing the sun?
Would we seek our friends thirstily and make a million plans and throng the theatres like we do?
Would we attack food with as much pleasure and abandonment and claim the TV for our own and growl if anyone steps in front of it?
I doubt it.
Weekdays were made for us to appreciate the weekends.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
This artist Margi Laurin takes old library books on the way to the pulper and turns them into journals. So, you get book jackets and other interesting pages of a book interspersed with notepaper.
How cool! That would DEFINITELY inspire some major writing. Imagine if you get a journal with the Princess Diaries cover or Twilight or 'Many Lives, many masters'. And it's eco-friendly.
Though I highly doubt those books will ever go to the pulper.
I should start making my own customised notebooks.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
I am now getting some allergy to all kinds of paper. Seriously, this is probably just a manifestation of my laziness but it's happening and I can't seem to shake it off.
I mean, I just can't write anything worthwhile in some notebooks. I end up doodling abstract aliens or sketching cartoonified girls or writing song lyrics all over the pages. So I end up, taking a fresh page each time...only to fill it with more doodles. So not helping the environment.
There are some books I CAN write in. Unfortunately, those happen to be my journals. Which I cannot use for any other purpose.
So I wind up with stacks of half-used notebooks, which ultimately get used as scribbling paper for exam study sessions (I HAVE to write down the points as I 'study') There is no tragedy for a notebook greater than being used as a study scribble pad. I mean, class notes is good. But study scribbles? My deepest apologies to all the notebooks that have ended up thus. It was not intentional.
Well, I can't blame myself either. Maybe the vibe wasn't right. Maybe we just didn't gel. (Oh I feel a bad joke about ball points and gels coming along. SHUT UP. NOW.)
So the actual work I'm supposed to be doing? Not happening, seeing as I'm getting too accustomed to typing. (Maybe that's another excuse for not working because I don't get the computer often enough)
This is not good. I used to be the kid who loved the actual process of writing. I was addicted to it. I used to even fill up fee forms for classmates.
I don't think that's something that can die out so easily.
Is it the unconscious act of concentration? The manoeuvring of self or vehicle through the chaos of traffic while your mind travels on a completely different terrain?
Is it the fact that you're all alone in a sea of humanity, faces you see unseeingly, faces you shall never see again?
Is it the moment of privacy, the pause in your schedule where you are forced to do nothing else but cover a distance?
Is it the fact that you are exposed to sun, sky and wind, dusty roads and restless feet, noise and the collective commotion of a city's frustration, ambition and desperation?
Is it the movement in your otherwise non-adventurous life?
Is it the rhythm of your footsteps, the routine of moving wheels, the procedure of the traffic signal, the unspoken order followed by strangers together in a moment of mundanity?
Maybe it's just that it reminds me so much of life itself.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Another thing I liked about the book is that it portrays the glorious Pandava princes and their queen in all their weaknesses. And okay, they were war heroes, but it also talks about how much emptiness they had to endure afterwards.
Which makes me think again of something. We can't say "Oh, look what the world is coming to" . The world has always been this way! Nonsense has happened, and man has endured. War is pointless-people readily going forward to kill strangers who have done nothing personally to them. Ready to lose their lives for someone else's cause.
Of course, wars are fought to protect oneself more often than not. But still. Isn't the ability to negotiate what makes us human?
It's been happening since the Mahabharat. And we still haven't found alternative solutions? Or even if we have, we still resort to our modern versions of astras and arrows.
And the weirdest part is that it is all written, it is all supposed to happen, as Krishna says. But why are these horrible, terrible things supposed to happen?
Anyway, I have nothing new to say on the subject of war and peace. And there is so much I don't understand of karma and life. I wanted to talk about the book.
My favourite character is Karna. Not because I was captain of his house in school. Okay, maybe that's why. But come on, he's so different! The other Pandavas are so boring-all heroic. All of them are supposed to be so black and white. He's the one who's tormented, surviving such a messed-up life, no clue about where he's coming from or where he's going, hanging out with this bad guy who's so nice to him. This is where the age-old question arises. "If he's nice to me, how can I hate him?" Plus, I'm sure he would've been super cool looking (despite being way too blinged-out with the numerous earrings and all.) and super intelligent.
I think if we'd met, he could've taught me a lot about getting over myself and I could've found him something better to do than waste time fuming with revenge.
I'm sure Amy Macdonald's song would befit this situation.
"I wish I'd known you before"
Seriously. Things would've been so different. Except I doubt we could adjust to each other's eras. I would've had to wear a sari and I would've not been allowed to hang out with him anyway since well, he would be a guy. And I highly doubt it would be possible for him to traipse about Chennai heat in his golden armour.
Ever felt like you have no choice but to fall silent and feel the winds of a world within you?
As if the frenzy of activity outside you is the one that is static while the train of your brain moves faster and faster, further and further away?
You remind yourself that you're breathing.
You're somewhere else, outside this body, or far too deep inside. You're either extra sensitive so that everything hurts or completely numb so that everything bounces off.
Where are you?
I may be lost but this time, I'm okay with it.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
In an attempt to fuel the brain, I am taking a break from Meg Cabot (not much of a choice since I finished all the Mediator books and the Princess Diaries and don't really like her novels). So, besides picking up (and ravenously finishing) Carmen Bin Ladin's story, I also reluctantly surrendered myself to 'The Inheritance of Loss'. I really hoped there wouldn't be too much of description and more conversation, more about people. I think Jhumpa Lahiri's descriptions are the only ones I don't skip.
But I found this poem prefacing the actual story...and I feel like I finally found something that sums up my state of mind. And voila! It's a poem I can understand!
(I love the last line in particular)
Boast of Quietness
Writings of light assault the darkness, more prodigious than meteors.
The tall unknowable city takes over the countryside.
Sure of my life and my death, I observe the ambitious and would like to understand them.
Their day is greedy as a lariat in the air.
Their night is a rest from the rage within steel, quick to attack.
They speak of humanity.
My humanity is in feeling we are all voices of the same poverty.
They speak of homeland.
My homeland is the rhythm of a guitar, a few portraits, an old sword, the willow grove's visible prayer as evening falls.
Time is living me.
More silent than my shadow, I pass through the loftily covetous multitude.
They are indispensable, singular, worthy of tomorrow.
My name is someone and anyone.
I walk slowly, like one who comes from so far away he doesn't expect to arrive.
Jorge Luis Borges
Friday, January 16, 2009
I think if you put your mind to it, you can achieve ANYTHING.
If you're determined enough, you can write that masterpiece you've always wanted to, you can lose 50 kilos or you can become the President of the United States.
You can take your depression and stuff it down the drain. You can take your past humiliation and throw it to the winds. You can ignore all the naysayers; you can be Superman.
But it doesn't matter if you've got nerves of steel, if you're sleepy, you just CANNOT fight it!
Slap, slap, slap. WAAAAAKE UPPPPPP!
I'm in a very peculiar state of mind.
I think this extra tooth is giving me some gyan. I kid you not. There's something to be gained out of mind numbing pain I guess.
Besides the fact that I'm learning to destress and stop chasing after greatness (ahahahaa) I'm enjoying the contentment of being single. Really!
Okay, honestly speaking, I don't know how long this phase is going to last. But I shall enjoy it till then!
As an objective observer, I have been analysing my friends' crushes, old and new. Ah, crushes. Crushing rushing crushes. The ebb and the flow, the exhiliration and the crashing down. And also, the rare exciting possibility of two people managing to like each other at the same time. The 'Jaane Tu..'s and the 'Jab We Met's.
Thankfully no 'Ghajini's and 'Dev D's.
But there's something to be said for detached celebrity crushes or crushes on distant unattainable angels while you savour the free delicious taste of singlehood.
Anyway, I can't even begin to describe how it feels to finally reach this state even though I've felt it fleetingly before and EVEN THOUGH I have no clue if it's going to last longer than this day. But it's there! And I'm alive to feel it.
And no, K, I'm not high but I can imagine what it would be like to be a renunciate.
Weeeeelll, in a more i-love-everyone-detachedly-and-from-a-distance-way. Which is what a renunciate is. NOT.
Maybe it's all because of the tooth.
But atleast I'm far from depressed.
I'm single! Wheeeeeee!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Something's happening to me. I'm feeling so filmy it's not funny.
I jumped up on top of my bed and was dancing to 'Chhaiyya chhaiyya' this morning. And I want to dance some more, over exaggerated expressions and hands flailing.
Maybe this is my spccial talent-the ability to give myself into music and dance Bollywood style with the least trace of shame.
Does that count as a hobby? A hobby no one should be allowed to see and that cannot be put down on a resume?
Well, it makes me happy.
God bless Bollywood.
Next on the list: 'Banthan' from 'Kurukshetra'.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
It's called 'Mr Rock n roll' by Amy Macdonald.
It's really touching.
And so true.
Life's like that. Art imitates it.
So called Mr Rock And Roll
Is dancing on his own again
Talking on his phone again
To someone who tells him that his balance is low
He's got no where to go
He's on his own again
Rock chick of the century
Is acting like she used to be
Dancing like there's no one there
Before she never seemed to care
Now she wouldn't dare
It's so rock and roll to be alone
And they'll meet one day
And say "I wish I was something more"
And they'll meet one day
And say " I wish I knew you, I wish I knew you before"
Mrs Black and White
She's never seen a shade of grey
Always something on her mind
Every single day
But now she's lost her way
And where does she go from here
Sees all that one can see
He's living proof of someone
Very different to me
But now he wants to be free
Free so he can see
And they'll meet one day
And say "I wish I was something more"
And they'll meet one day
And say "I wish I knew you, I wish I knew you before"
He says "I wish I knew you, I wish I met you
When time was still on my side"
She'll say " I wish I knew you, I wish I loved you
Before I was his bride"
And so they must depart
Too many more are broken hearts
But I've seen that all before
In TV, books and film and more
And there's a happy ending
Every single day
And they'll meet one day
And say "I wish I was something more"
And they'll meet one day
And say "I wish I knew you, I wish I knew you before"
Saturday, January 10, 2009
There's a point where you're rock bottom, in this weird place in your head AND you've got this horrible bitter taste in your mouth thanks to fever medicine. The only thing you're looking forward to is taking down that box containing your video game (within minutes you're going to be playing Tetris, just like in the good old days when you're only troubles were Quarterly, Half-Yearly and Annual). You open the box and find that your Gameboy's screen has melted.
I mean, it LOOKS like it. It's all coated with some circular formations and even though it's switching on, you are just not able to see anything anyway.
I started bawling.
I mean, come on, that's all I'd been looking forward to of late! Remember, my big decision and all-to find a hobby, something that would distract me and make me happy and NOT stress me out. Seeing all these guys in office playing Death Race and suchlike games reminded me of how that could be a possible hobby. I mean, it's not worthwhile like tennis or oil painting but it's SO STRESS-FREE!
And I can't WRITE as a hobby. Hello! I do that all the time, here and in my diary and in my internship and EVERYWHERE. That's like my COMPULSION in life. I need to find something ELSSSSSSSSSSSE!
And I really don't know why I broke up with my guitar. I really am too scared to pick him up again. I'm sure his strings are all rusted. It's just after my depressive full-on songwriting phase from 15 to 17, I haven't really properly played. Except for like the only two or three songs I remember. I guess it's because it reminds me of all those pathetic unrequited crush days.
And Spanish! I haven't felt those words on my tongue for a long, long time. Even though I can still sing along to all the Enrique and Shakira Spanish albums
I shouldn't be losing my talents. I really shouldn't.
Maybe I don't deserve to have a new hobby. Because I seem to be wasting all my old ones.
Grrrr. Not fair.
But how could the screen have melted??????????????? It's not FAIR!!!!
Thursday, January 8, 2009
1. What is the opposite of Rajeshwari?
RAJESH DONT WORRY!!
( I. LOVE. THIS)
2. Vivek calling Mu.Ka.Stallin at night 12'o clock...
Vvk:nenga verum muka stallina illana naku muka stalinah? Good night pa
(It's a good question...)
3. Easy ways to kill an ant:
Mix chilli powder with sugar and give it. After having that the ant will go in search of water somewhere near a water tak. When the ant goes near the tank, push him into it. Now the ant was fully soaked in water. It will go to dry himself near fire. When he reaches near fire, put a bomb in the fire. Then u admit the ant wounded in the Bomb blast in ICU. Remove the oxygen mask from his mouth and kill it. Ha! Wat a criminal mind!
4. What is the difference between 1st night & last night?
If U sleep on flowers, it is 1st night!
If U sleep with flowers on U, it is last night! a dandanakka a danakkunanakka...,, :)
5. Sardar went 2 purchase indian flag.
After a few minutes d shop keeper was unconscious.
bcoz sardar asked him
"Show me some other colours"
(I don't really approve of Sardar jokes because Rabbi's a Sardar and so is the PM so they are obviously not dumb but this one's funny.)
6. Heart is like a perfume bottle.
If u never open it, nobody knows ur fragrance. If u keep it always open soon u'll loose fragrance. So, Act wisely! Gud morning
7. Love is for life, life isn't for love. Love may fail in life, life should never fail in love. So dont spoil life in love, but dont forget to love in life...
(Thanks for the advice..I think!)
8. Tamil Nadu= funny state..1 rose rate 5.00 1 kg rise rate 1 rupee enna koduma Cm..
by girlfriendku rose kudukama avunga ammavuku 1 kg rice kudupor sangam...
(Rice is a good choice)
U R in a boat which is sinking.
Sharks n Crocodiles all around U!
Wat can U do 2 save urself?
Gud eve ;)
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
How cool. How..in control.
Left office early on account of me feeling so feverish that the greatest copy I could come up with was "Reach for the stars." Eyes burning and head spinning, I knew it was a matter of time before I laid myself down in the middle of the corridor, muttering incoherently.
Of course, it had to be raining when I stepped out. On top of that, some idiot parked his(or her) car too close to my right side. So I had to squish in from the left door, over the gearshift and accidentally kicked the AC vent. Came home to pitch darkness (no current) and whined for food while re reading the TENTH and FINAL Princess Diaries (Michael Moscovitz is my boyyyy!!) And I ate TWO huge cheese parathas even though I swore I would never touch the stuff after I put on 8 kilos in 12th standard thanks to the addiction.
What's the point of regret?? Seriously. I'm not going to say anything. And I am NOT going to cry when my jeans band is so tight it rolls down.
Not. Gonna. Cry.
I've been feeling awfully quiet since I went on overdrive and posted a million posts during the New Year period. But I've made some decisions. I've got myself a nice new notebook and I'm going to write in my journal REGULARLY. I was looking at my old diaries during the weekend and saw the one of 13 and a half year old me. I was more...er, frank and did a lot more venting. The new me happened to babble reams of morose abstract poetry and prose, without meaning anything and with it NOT HELPING AT ALL.
So I'm going to vent more. It's not always good to tell people things. Especially when you don't have the right people to tell.
Like the times when all you hear is an echo of your own deafening thoughts, so claustrophobic you can't breathe. You reach for the phone and you can't say a word. You open your mouth and you shut it. You're in this big white space inside your head and it's hollow, hollow, hollow. You're drowning of loneliness in a sea of people.
Now you see why my new diary wasn't helping at all. It would only make me MORE depressed. From now on, only happy happy thoughts. And if I can't think any about myself, my life or my lack of it, I'll think about 'Dev D'.
Friday, January 2, 2009
But it’s a great feeling.
Particularly when it’s the five o’clock lazy waning sunlight of late winter in Madras.
And you’re leaning against a wall that has a window to the West, the angle of the window so perfect that the sun drops right down on your face. Yellow light against white walls. Pigeons cooing softly somewhere out of vision. You can’t see anything except the sky outside, but that’s enough. More than enough. You’re squinting but you’re smiling. You’re all alone with the Sun. You close your eyes and upturn your face.
I don’t know why I feel like I was born into this moment, that this moment, this merging with the sunlight is my destiny.
You know, a thought suddenly struck me today. Growing older really does have its advantages (and I don't mean alcohol, my friend Aeroplane.) I mean, I feel a little wiser. I was just thinking about those moods that are so hard to get out of (what a nice change it makes to think about those moods rather than crashing around in them) and I realised that only when you're older do you realise that that dark mess, that sick feeling that overwhelms and blinds you, strangling your throat, where you're this grey mass of a being? Yeah, that one. It doesn't last forever.
I mean, I'm talking about people like you and me. People who don't have REAL problems, who're just confused in life and don't know which way to go. Sure we have those pricks, those bumps on the road that trip us just when we're a-smooth sailin'. But we're okay. I'm okay. We survive.
At fourteen, you think everything is supposed to be perfect. "OMG why doesn't he like me?" , "Oh man, why do I have to be athletically challenged?" (I just could NOT play volleyball)
At twenty, the situation might not be so different. But atleast you're more equipped to deal with it. "Hmmm he doesn't like me. Like I care". "Okay I can't do a, b or c. But I think I can do x and y!" (Man, I sound boring now!)
What I'm (uninterestingly) saying is, that you get better with age. You don't get to know yourself completely but you learn to deal with the nonsense. You learn to shrug with your heart. You learn to smile when you least feel like it...and that things can improve when you do so. You learn that a word can be the most dangerous weapon.
When you say you're not a kid anymore, it doesn't mean that you're beyond cuddling up with your mommy or that you can't delight yourself with the exploits of Tom and Jerry.
It just means you have the sense to know that everything's temporary and you might as well enjoy it.