tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76807042805034176542024-03-05T21:25:42.963+05:30NonsensefileConstantly contradicting cluttered thoughts of a confused mind !Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-68797357908613760802011-04-21T11:03:00.002+05:302011-04-21T19:54:46.292+05:30Cravings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div>Love, laughter,</div><div><div>Seduction, erudition,</div></div><div>Pleasure, closure,</div><div>Peace, protection,<br />
Passion, devotion,<br />
Selfish deviation,<br />
Practical satisfaction,<br />
Comfort, camaraderie,</div><div>Effortless bonds,</div><div>Numbness.<br />
<br />
</div><div>Profound power,</div><div>to act and react,</div><div>on what matters most.</div><div>Stub ridicule,</div><div>Spite sarcasm,</div><div>Erase negativity,</div><div>Glow in the glory,</div><div>Of undemanding goodwill.</div><div><br />
</div><div>To smile with eyes.</div><div>To leave behind a soul.</div><div>To be craved when here.</div><div>And to remain when gone.</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div></div>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-32357288197944610972011-04-18T22:37:00.004+05:302011-04-20T08:27:21.176+05:30Beach and memories at Fort Kochi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Ask me where the best place is to be,<br />
Right here on the shores of Fort Kochi.<br />
Lazing by the languid beach,<br />
Gazing at the curling waves,<br />
Joyous days past,<br />
Gush forth overwhelming the heart.<br />
<br />
A childhood spent rolling in the sand,<br />
Screaming at the waves,<br />
"Mother Ocean if you dare, come drench me"<br />
Believing blindly thrusting challenges<br />
Forced the ocean to throw<br />
Its mightiest waves to wet tiny restless feet.<br />
<br />
When i was younger,<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">There were no </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">fancy antique stalls, bearded snake charmers and circus wallas</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Haunting the beach.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Neither Kathakali evenings,</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">nor magic Ayurveda massages in vogue.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And yet it felt like home,</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Naively native.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Today the scene has changed,</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The rhythm fine tuned,</div>More foreigners throng this place,<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Home stays and pushy guides</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Orchestrate the tourist rush.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Minting money, winning hearts,</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Selling the soul of this land.</div><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Today i return,</div>Years and realizations later,<br />
Witnessing a shore no longer endlessly winding.<br />
Only a paltry cobbled pathway,<br />
Much polished and posh,<br />
And yet the shore<br />
eaten up by the sea<br />
Is starkly amiss.<br />
The stretching sand,<br />
Enough to play football n freebie<br />
Is lost alas.<br />
<br />
I am told the sea is gobbling up the land<br />
Like a thirsty monster on rampage.<br />
A row of moldy rocks block,<br />
further intrusion<br />
Of the thunderous threatening waters;<br />
The beach broad and sprawling,<br />
The sands i used to know,<br />
Is only a treasure cherished in memories<br />
Of nostalgic fools like you and I.<br />
<br />
When i was younger across the ocean,<br />
Stood the horizon.<br />
Today stands an island:<br />
The cherished project of the government<br />
Promising wealth and well being for the land.<br />
They say<br />
The sand from this side of the shore,<br />
Was swept across partly by ocean n mostly by man,<br />
to form this mound of future prosperity.<br />
<br />
Bathed in shimmering lights the container terminal,<br />
Echoes the image of a cruise ship at dusk.<br />
Its true it reflects prosperity.<br />
But sitting by the bench on the adjacent shore,<br />
Gazing at this massive construction,<br />
Cant help but wonder,<br />
Meddling with the ways of nature,<br />
Were we shouting,<br />
"Mighty Ocean, if you dare throw us a Tsunami"?<br />
Coz when i was younger i trusted the waters,<br />
Like everything else in life.<br />
But today sitting by the sea<br />
Distrust always lurks by.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-25282360104282596102011-04-07T22:54:00.018+05:302011-04-10T21:19:26.967+05:30The Religion of Politricks<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I rushed into the auto,<br />
<div>running late to work, </div><div>gasping for breath,</div><div>I asked him to lower</div><div>the blaring radio</div><div>spitting election news.</div><div><br />
</div><div>As the volume lowered </div><div>and better sense restored,</div><div>he started a conversation</div><div>that turned more a monologue,</div><div>as i remained reaction-less,</div><div>impatient and cross,</div><div>at this uninvited jabber.</div><div><br />
</div><div>"Madam this time the tides are changing!"</div><div>He exclaimed excited.</div><div>"Anarchy and decay </div><div>have swept the land.</div><div>But this time the wheels<br />
of fortune will change.</div><div>This time righteousness will prevail.</div><div>I have fasted and prayed,</div><div>Offered poojas at dawn<br />
and showered garlands countless.</div><div>This time I have<br />
pierced my tongue,</div><div>and pleased the family deity.</div><div>For sure this time, </div><div>Amma will take power, </div><div>snubbing the forces oppossing.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Madam i will tell you how</div><div>Amma is the one, </div><div>Destined by stars divine;</div><div>Amma is the goddess herself Madam!</div><div>Yes, a reincarnation of Durga.</div><div>The Goddess fierce and furious,</div><div>The warrior who rages,</div><div>battles injustice,</div><div>and tramples vicious demons,</div><div>whose presence pollute. </div><div>Yes she was born,</div><div>to redeem the land!</div><div><br />
</div><div>Amma is my living deity Madam.</div><div>Dont be scared,</div><div>But i was put in jail,</div><div>Yes, of course it was fixed,</div><div>False charges, you see.</div><div>My family and I,</div><div>Rotted in misery,</div><div>For countless days,</div><div>Unsure and tortured,</div><div>Until one day, </div><div>A miracle happened,</div><div>The party rescued me<br />
Giving me<br />
a second lease of life.<br />
<br />
</div><div>Ever since i have been faithful</div><div>I have recruited and enrolled,</div><div>Big names for the party,</div><div>But i have never contested,</div><div>For it invites envy and quarrel aplenty.</div><div>I have no regrets anyhow,</div><div>For people come to me begging seats now.</div><div><br />
</div><div>If the party wins,</div><div>I will make my auto AC.</div><div>And take you around for free.</div><div>If the party wins,</div><div>I assure you,</div><div>a government job</div><div>With a snap of my thumbs.</div><div>If the party wins,</div><div>we will be kings.</div><div>If the party wins,</div><div>We will erase,</div><div>Not just the opposition,</div><div>But their questionable position,</div><div>On the existence of God. </div><div>If the party wins,</div><div>we will replace,</div><div>all the Christians<br />
Of this land.</div><div>For Christians, </div><div>worship a God that is not Hindu.</div><div>But don't you worry Madam,</div><div>The party is kind to your Islam,</div><div>For did you know, </div><div>Our devi was wedded</div><div>To a muslim.</div><div>If the party wins,</div><div>Together we will monopolize the offices of power.</div><div>And kick the Christians on their asses!</div><div><br />
</div><div>Madam I never let a Christain,</div><div>step into my auto.</div><div>If they do,</div><div>I ask them to leave, </div><div>Never bothering about my fare.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Madam don't worry, your job i assure,</div><div>For the days to come will bring us cheer.</div><div>I can adjust with your people</div><div>But never with the cursed Christians".</div><div><br />
</div><div>We reached the destination.</div><div>I stepped out.</div><div>Asked if he needed his fare.</div><div>For i was a Christian</div><div>Who he had took for </div><div>a Muslim.</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div></div>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-46537573895558673072011-04-06T23:23:00.021+05:302011-05-10T21:23:04.898+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
Searching for solace,<br />
<div>Turning a page,</div><div>I dipped into the world</div><div>Of incessant beauty.<br />
<br />
</div><div>Away from the cares<br />
Of mundane chores, </div><div>The words took me,</div><div>To a land unknown,</div><div>Climes unseen,</div><div>And men of dreams.<br />
<br />
</div><div>The verdant meadows,</div><div>Sparkling sunshine,</div><div>Reflecting a piece of heaven,</div><div>Invited languid strolls,</div><div>Hushed embraces,</div><div>And promises umpteen.<br />
<br />
</div><div>Rousing the blunted </div><div>Embers of emotion,</div><div>Longings for passion,</div><div>Unbound recreation,</div><div>The senses danced up</div><div>To a trance.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Groped in the grip</div><div>Of this sensuous treat,</div><div>My senses revoked,<br />
As I smelled,<br />
Pungent carrots,</div><div>Burning right in front! </div><div><br />
</div><div>P.S. This Poem won the following award at <a href="http://promisingpoetscafe.wordpress.com/2011/04/25/the-thursday-poets-rally-week-42-perfect-poet-award/">http://promisingpoetscafe.wordpress.com/2011/04/25/the-thursday-poets-rally-week-42-perfect-poet-award/</a></div><div><br />
</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://promisingpoetscafe.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/perfect-poet-award-for-week-42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://promisingpoetscafe.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/perfect-poet-award-for-week-42.jpg" /></a></div></div><div><br />
I am ecstatic! Thanks Jingle for the award! Here is the second poem as required...<br />
<br />
<b>Breaking Boundaries</b><br />
<br />
Cease mentally dissecting!<br />
Give chance to the voice within.<br />
You may shed a tear,<br />
You may end up hurt,<br />
You may break a heart,<br />
But never will you regret;<br />
For once you did what you wanted<br />
And never have to ponder "what if i did".<br />
<div><br />
</div></div></div>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-78941164589855277742011-04-04T16:09:00.011+05:302011-04-05T19:31:09.951+05:30Tales of old<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div>On a balmy night,</div><div>I settled beside <i>ammama</i></div><div>Inside the ancestral <i>taravaad</i>,</div><div>Surrounded by abundant grounds and fields beyond. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Dressed in spotless white,</div><div>Her tresses flowing over her spine,</div><div>She sat on the veranda,</div><div>Crushing the beetle nuts, preparing the evening round of paan.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Pulling her pleated<i> </i>tail hanging beneath her <i>chatta,</i></div><div>I pestered her to tell me a tale,</div><div>Like the one she told the day before,</div><div>Of the river monster or of the evil magician who swore.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Straining her forehead,</div><div>She looked ahead,</div><div>Recollecting a fearful tale,</div><div>That would leave me tailing behind her for the rest of the night.</div><div><br />
</div><div>"Tonight I will tell you a tale of old.</div><div> A story that never bores,</div><div> If you see in your head, </div><div>The events unfolding through my words".</div><div><br />
</div><div>In her matronly tone she began the story</div><div>Of her grandfather,</div><div>And of his lush fields, </div><div>Streaching beyond the farthest corner the naked eye could reach. </div><div><br />
</div><div><i>Veliyappapan</i> as she fondly recalled,</div><div>Owned both land and men,</div><div>Was a man who found prosperity and contentment, </div><div>In his labours on the land.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Once when the yeild was ripe and ready for harvest,</div><div>The caretaker reported unrest,</div><div>In his precious plantain grove,</div><div>Yielding succulent fruit.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Anger fuming on his face,</div><div>He walked into the fields,</div><div>To see for himself the destruction bought on by wild beasts.</div><div>In disbelief he stared at the dear plantains uprooted, rotting in a heap.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Instantly he deployed men,</div><div>To take rounds around the field,</div><div>To guard and protect the borders of his farm,</div><div>From a repetitive harm.</div><div><br />
</div><div>And yet again next morning, he heard the same!</div><div>The farm attacked once again!</div><div>"How so?! How so?!" screamed the old man in despair.</div><div>"When the night guards retreated after the rounds at dawn" came the reluctant reply.</div><div><br />
</div><div><i>Velliyappapan</i> took his spear,</div><div>And marched to the fields himself,</div><div>With a swear under his tongue,</div><div>To roast in fire, the beasts that ruined his prized plantains.</div><div><br />
</div><div>He took his post atop the tree house,</div><div>Watched with pride the land ahead,</div><div>Saw the sun set and darkness envelop the terrain.</div><div>The village fell asleep, but not he and his men, awaiting their prey.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The generous moon gifted the light they needed,</div><div>To spot any movement in the lands below.</div><div>But nothing stirred that night,</div><div>And just when they were about to call it a night,</div><div><br />
</div><div>The winds carried to them,</div><div>The distant grumble,</div><div>A sudden rubble,</div><div>From the far north end of the farm.</div><div><br />
</div><div><i>Velliyappapan</i> woke his drowsy men,</div><div>And ran where his ears took him,</div><div>He saw in the moonlight, </div><div>Two mighty bullocks rampaging his precious plantains!</div><div><br />
</div><div>Seething with anger,</div><div>Screaming revenge,</div><div>Pointing his spear, the bulls he chased,</div><div>Like a mad man possessed.</div><div><br />
</div><div>He ran and ran with all his might</div><div>Behind the bulls.</div><div>Behind the bulls he ran,</div><div>Like a hunter determined.</div><div><br />
</div><div>And just when <i>Veliyappapan</i> thought he could run no more,</div><div>He saw the bulls ahead of him,</div><div>Coming to a halt!</div><div>Lo! Ahead lay the mighty stream they could never cross!</div><div><br />
</div><div>He closed in on his prey,</div><div>Saw diabolic pairs of red eyes,</div><div>Staring as he raised his spear, </div><div>To plunge into their flesh.</div><div><br />
</div><div>But as he descended the sharp shiny ends of his weapon,</div><div>The beasts vanished from under his sight, Ayyo!</div><div>As if by magic or a devil's spell,</div><div>Leaving in its stead two cold rocks instead!</div><div><br />
</div><div>Perplexed I stared at my Grandma as she ended her tale,</div><div>Her face gleaming in excitement,</div><div>As if she saw the mysterious disappearance,</div><div>Of two full grown, wild beasts herself!</div><div><br />
Seeing me at a loss,</div><div>She explained wide eyed,</div><div>"The bulls were evil spirits dear,</div><div>Possessing power to transform form as they desire!"</div><div><br />
</div><div>Scared I shivered at the prospect of such evil.</div><div>"Do the bulls across our fields hold such power?"</div><div>Panic stricken i cried.</div><div>Laughing, she reassured with confidence,</div><div><br />
</div><div>"Don't you worry child, </div><div>The advent of electric power,</div><div>Has roasted to hell all the evil spirits, </div><div>That dwelled in the dark and ruled the nights of old!"</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
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</div></div>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-30429891325072922462011-04-03T22:09:00.002+05:302011-04-04T12:12:39.264+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Parched lips,<br />
<div>Bursting along the seams,</div><div>Culled dreams haunting spaces each,<br />
Unquenched desires gripping every inch,<br />
That and more strife,<br />
Stir the soul to beat retreat,<br />
Retrieve the treasures of indifferent un-want.<br />
<br />
</div></div>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-85999507931966466882011-04-03T00:14:00.003+05:302011-04-03T00:27:22.431+05:30Drained<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Brain, dead.<br />
Mind, numb.<br />
Conscious corrupt.<br />
Dejection abundant.<br />
Lonesome hour,<br />
Plagued despair.<br />
Heart, keep faith.<br />
Faith, keep trust.<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-31696240180256309772011-04-01T19:04:00.007+05:302011-04-04T12:13:22.072+05:30Arithmophobia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Fears take root young.<br />
Fears take shape unsung.<br />
Fear of roaches, fear of matches,<br />
Fear of dreary corners,<br />
And ghostly encounters,<br />
But nothing beats the cold jitters,<br />
That erupt when faced with stoic numbers.<br />
<br />
Mother said "Numbers matter",<br />
For they dominate every exchange hereafter.<br />
Father said "Numbers yield power",<br />
Shy away and be labelled slower.<br />
Piled up peer pressure,<br />
And divergent desire however,<br />
Seal a steady decline into eternal numerical stammer.<br />
<br />
The curling eights and sticky fours pick on the ego,<br />
As fumbling attempts to command'em falter, turning you a zero.<br />
Under their unrelenting gaze,<br />
Stuck in a confounding maze,<br />
Your only solace<br />
Is to rush back from the chocking world of numbers<br />
And find comfort conceding your fears in words.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-59666888771131353302011-02-05T11:48:00.008+05:302011-02-05T12:17:45.952+05:30Art Attack<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
It was the season of concerts and public performances, everybody who was somebody seemed busy with the cultural engagements that happened in the wintry nights of January. I decided I had to do justice to my self-anointed tag of a theater enthusiast. So far my exposure was limited to college plays. It was about time to see some professional live performances and be a theater enthusiast who actually went to real theater events. The ongoing National Drama Festival in town seemed the perfect place to start my journey into theatrical bliss.<br />
<br />
Isn't there an old world charm in attending plays? It was the ideal, high sounding hobby I wanted on my list of social engagements. With hopes of being enthralled with sensational performances I went in for the first play, a Malayalam adaptation of Ibsen's <i>Lady of the Sea</i>. We, I and hubby dearest, settled into our comfortable seats in the plush auditorium custom made for live performances. Excited, I looked around to see a decent crowd and spotted a few classic shabby kurthas and French beards that brought back memories of my drama master in grad school. Loved the vibe of the place, nothing like being amidst artistically gifted people and pretending like you share their creative talent!<br />
<br />
Three bells and a short intro later, the play started. A plump lady in her nightdress and a man in a night gown were my first potential sources of theatrical enlightenment. I waited with baited breath to be enraptured by the power of their performances. Three eyes popping at the woman, who seemed to be in some kind of a dream, made it clear that the play was an expressionist experimentation laden with symbolism. In the minutes that followed, I managed to grasp that the lady was longing for 'something'. Longing to go back to that 'something'. Her husband, our man in the night gown, was pleading her not to go back to that 'something'. But for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what that 'something' was!<br />
<br />
A series of tortuously slow dialogues revealed that this dilemma of "to go or not to" was doomed to unravel at snails pace. Why does artsy stuff often turn out deliberately devised to test the patience of audience? The only hope left for salvation now seemed a change in the deserted background and the infectiously depressing tones. But that wasn't going to be. Our first play was destined to be this two-hour-long-irritating-rant revolving around "going or not going". Turning around to check the reactions of other viewers confirmed that slipping into a quick nap was the only escape from the tediously slow proceedings on stage. Although we went in with willing impressionable minds, we walked out convinced that the play was inherently insufferable.<br />
<br />
"First impressions are not always the best" I consoled my visibly frustrated better half, who I had dragged in promising a delightful intro into world of dramatic art. The art lover in me tried to justify the abstract ideals the director must have intended to project by putting up a play that thrived on making the viewer wait perennially for conclusive answers and leave no clue as to what it was the lady actually wanted to go back to. Was it the lover, as in the original version of the play? I don't think so. It seemed in the adaptation, the directed intended the play to be open ended, leaving the audience draw their own conclusions. So there we were, after a clueless first encounter with the world of dramatic art.<br />
<br />
Day 1, Lesson Learnt - Never to go for abstract crap.<br />
<br />
Everything deserves a second chance. A careful scanning of the play schedules and I rounded up on a dance drama by an American troop next. "Its firangi, it will definitely be better" screamed the country Indian in me. With renewed vigor I convinced my hubby to not give up on plays solely based on our first encounter. Erasing the memories of the previous night, we settled into our seats in the auditorium a second time. The troop seemed highly acclaimed and exceptionally flexible in twisting and turning their limbs into abstruse angles. But that was just about it. Little did we know that what we were in for was a session of disjointed acrobatics on display. What the Director probably missed out on before embarking on a public performance of the play, was to have a plot that was comprehensible to the public. All right it was a dance recreation, but then it should have had some resemblance to what we associate as dance in the normal world. Headstands and somersaults do not make a play nor can it be passed around as dance! The theater wouldn't have turned as empty as it did if I was the only one who shared these views.<br />
<br />
Day 2 Lesson Learnt - International troops come up with trash too.<br />
<br />
As much as I wanted to act the theatre buff, I couldn't help the eventual realization that plays are not really my thing. The two professional plays I was subjected to so far were painful to say the least. Yet I wanted to watch a third play to confirm it would be sensible to bid good riddance to a forced interest.<br />
<br />
So there we were at our third play. This time in Chinese. As if, not understanding the language would help! I assured my hubby we would leave as soon as the first scene was done, "You see, a third lousy show would be my final sign from the stars that plays were not my forte". As the lights flooded the stage, we saw a flash of silhouettes of the leading characters behind the nine doors with translucent silky curtains. Although the elegant start predicted a brilliant performance, my previous experience had made me a wary viewer.<br />
<br />
Set in feudal China, the tale unfolded in a mix of Chinese ballad and modern dramatic narrative. The colourful floating garments and the pleasing oriental music was pure pleasure to our parched senses made numb by the previous sessions of patience tests. As the plot progressed, hair raising performances and hilarious scenes left us in splits of laughter. This one had it all. Undeniably <i>The Amorous Lotus Pan</i>, an adaptation of an ancient Chinese legend, was breathtakingly magnificent from start to finish! Beautiful, aesthetic and heartwarming, it was a passionate tale of love and loss. The divine music, the romantic dance sequences, the mesmerising stage techniques, it was all a revelation. By the end of it all the play had captured the hearts of the audience who rose for a standing ovation as the play drew to a close. Finally a play that revealed to the drama geniuses present, the simple truth behind the mechanics of a heart warming play- A play has to be a PLAY first. And NOT some senseless attempt at sounding intellectual with redundant plots.<br />
<br />
Day 3, Lesson Learnt - If you don't know how, go learn from the Chinese!</div>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-1217568378323848222011-01-13T10:39:00.028+05:302011-01-18T18:24:38.647+05:30Republic of Farmindia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi92S3gSkKnVbW6ajmIqs40uqciAGmE-JSZ8HJE77QmR33KTf8MuYgNUG-_rB-GG-2ISM4kDsU9vPZNf6pTVnhutmco_tveWxFtjUjZxpnoGZFdKFfBjMf55xwr8RNvbEfOklRvhIMp2o/s1600/ttp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi92S3gSkKnVbW6ajmIqs40uqciAGmE-JSZ8HJE77QmR33KTf8MuYgNUG-_rB-GG-2ISM4kDsU9vPZNf6pTVnhutmco_tveWxFtjUjZxpnoGZFdKFfBjMf55xwr8RNvbEfOklRvhIMp2o/s1600/ttp.jpg" /></a></div>"All animals are equal, some are more equal" George Orwell, <i>Animal Farm.</i><br />
<br />
Once upon a time in a lush green flourishing farm the privileged pigs ruled supreme. They enjoyed shamelessly the benefits bestowed upon them by virtue of their birth into a particular clan. This prestige however came with a price. As Spiderman rightly realised "With great power, came great responsibilities", the privileged pigs too had to naturally undertake all the duties destined in their direction. Whether they willed for it or not, they had to assume the roles of high priests, feudal landlords, learned scholars and competent slave drivers. Now to many, this may seem a comparatively gifted life, but only those who were born with a silver spoon in their mouth knew the burden of constantly holding it there. A senile senior pig once exclaimed, "I would any day let my slaves take up my daily duties, but alas these innocent simpletons would find it too overwhelming to understand the intricacies of dispensing religious doctrines, handling economic resources and managing acres of real estate. You see, my privileged position comes with the great service i am providing to the farm community which my servants are practically incapable off!"<br />
<br />
In this manner the cunning pigs convinced the rest of the animals outside their own sect that the deprivation and de-human/animalisation meted out to them was one that they completely deserved by virtue of their birth into a naturally incompetent and unintelligent sect of the farm society. They manipulated them to be content in adhering to their intellectually superior masters. Gradually they were lead to believe it was an honour to serve their benevolent masters, who had sacrificed so much for the smooth functioning of the farm society. It was indoctrinated into their minds that their existence was so lowly; it was easy for them to pollute their masters and disrupt their purity merely by their presence or contact. They were bound to maintain a safe distance from the privileged pigs and places of worship, to always speak in servile tones and to never ever question the dictates of their Godly masters. Their sole purpose in life was to make the lives of their lords as hassle free as possible. They readily took up the menial jobs of servant maids, farm hands, washer men and such like.<br />
<br />
Life was running smooth, admittedly more so for the privileged pigs. Every one in the farm knew their roles, responsibilities and positions. But then suddenly on fine summer morning, the Swans started invading the farm. They were pristine white creatures, with a grace, sophistication and beauty that was unmatched and unseen of till that day. They came in the pretext of developing business relationships with the privileged pigs of the farm. They wanted the spices and the rich produce of the farm to take back to their cold, barren lands across the mighty oceans. In exchange they gifted the privileged pigs with riches and never before seen contraptions, which they claimed were the benefits of some kind of revolution in their lands.The pigs reveled at the marvels these white Swans or Whites in short, bought with them.<br />
<br />
Of course the privileged pigs were seasoned thieves reaping the benefits of a blind society for centuries. Only the Whites were much smarter, and knew to steal from the thieves! They were schemers of the first order and came with an agenda to eventually dominate and evangelize.They diverted the attention of the privileged pigs into fighting their contemporaries in the neighboring farms. They offered superior artillery power in exchange for rights to trade, rule and govern certain portions of the farm. Before any one could make sense of anything, the Whites were in charge of all the farms, all over the land!<br />
<div><br />
</div>The Whites ruled supreme now and the privileged pigs were not so privileged any more. The fully functional and totally one sided-ly beneficial social order that the pigs had so carefully structured, began to crumble with that cursed system of English education the Whites propagated. To the utter mortification of the privileged pigs, education was no longer a strictly guarded secret. Every dove, dog and donkey had access to it! "Surely if its so open a system, then the English education is deplorable" the pigs uttered in unison. They were content studying their sacredly gaurded Vedas in Sanskrit. The less privileged animals however made the best of the English education and with their competence in the language rose to assist the Whites in running the farms and gained administrative power.<br />
<br />
Undoubtedly the privileged pigs were slowly but surely loosing their edge. By the time they realised the power that came with English education it was sadly way too late. The less privileged animals were now refined beings frightfully aware of their rights and deprivations. They planned to rebel and restore equality in the farm, but first they had to smoke out the Whites before dreaming of any kind of authority. Eventually, both the privileged and the less privileged animals joined forces to oust their common enemy - the Whites. After decades of struggle and innumerable sacrifices independence was restored in the farm and it was joyously declared the Republic of Farmindia.<br />
<br />
More than half a century later the Farmindia of today is markedly different from the feudal farm of old. The power politics has shifted and the privileged pigs now lead a paltry existence. The policies for upliftment of the less privileged animals, adopted after independence, has simultaneously lead to the steady deprivation of the once hale and hearty pigs. Inevitably, the present generation of pigs have to bare the brunt of the glory days of their ancestors. The reservation policies and quotas implemented almost half a century ago, is working smooth and steady in favour of everyone except the poor pigs. Their destiny remains to slog extra hard, score double the marks and yet remain in perennial uncertainty of gaining a government job. And if they dare complain about injustice or raise a finger against incompetency among those in authority solely by means of their genius in manipulating the quotas, they are inevitably branded anti-social Castists and have to face the wrath of Crusaders-of-Social-Justice-to-Select-Sections-of-Society.<br />
<br />
"In the Republic of Farmindia, all animals are equal" the national leaders may claim from rooftops. But the universal truth remains "All animals are equal, some are more equal."<br />
Suck it up!Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-51467853236218650662011-01-03T13:06:00.016+05:302011-01-03T14:11:59.492+05:30The Silent Stalker...<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Have you ever dreamt,</i><br />
<div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>Of that silent charmer,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>Following your shadow,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>Watching your back?</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Every time you turn,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>To catch him staring,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>He takes a curve,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>Vanishes from your gaze.</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>You know he is around the corner,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>Counting your every step.</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>Wonder when he will gather the courage,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>To step up and blow you a potent kiss...</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>It may take long,</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>He may stray, c</i><i>ourt others and make you pine.</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>But for sure he will return,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>Today, tomorrow or the day after,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>At dawn or at dusk, after your prayer.</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>He will return,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>To possess your body,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>To wrap you in a tight embrace,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>To leave you whirling in ecstasy,</i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i><br />
</i></span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>To lay claim on the whole of your being.</i></span></i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>But you know you will never know, when and where,</i></div><div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>His hands will slither around your throat,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>Drag you up close to smell his sweet stench, </i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>Force you to submit without resistance,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>Make you whimper "Not now, not today, take me later."</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>You sense the searing pain,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>You struggle for a gasp of breath,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>You see flashes of haven and hell,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>You swim in a pool of numbness later,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>You slowly succumb into a serene sleep.</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>But you know you will never know,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>Life as you knew it,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>Has ceased to exist.</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>Death, my secret stalker,</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i>You are a brutal lover.</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><br />
</div></div>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-88169214602160512482010-10-11T14:09:00.018+05:302010-10-12T07:49:29.289+05:30Current AffairsBeing unemployed is bliss, provided you have a sponsor. Financial support apart, it is still a tricky place to be in. It is one thing to dream of being jobless, and another to be actually sitting on your couch swatting flies. Apparently the sudden shift from a tight wired purpose oriented life to an absolute erasure of any kind of social and institutional engagement leaves one craving for the very same structured existence that was so emphatically abhorred. Call it a Paradox or the-grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side-syndrome, whatever it is, it is extremely unsettling to maintain your sanity and your serenity when exposed to a time overload with absolutely no means of keeping yourself occupied. When peeping into face book window every other minute seeking updates of people you would hardly share a coffee with becomes your primary means of socialisation, that my dear, is the point when you know for sure your life is slipping into deplorable stagnation. But God Bless the brains behind Internet and social networking. If I were asked the oft repeated and utterly pointless if-stranded-in-an-Island-question that are recurrent in celebrity interviews, I know what i would need. "An auto-re loadable refrigerator and wi-fi access thank you very much!" Digression and hypothesis apart, i have a plan of action for the lavishly barren days staring me in the face...<br />
<br />
First and foremost among the list of things to do inevitably is the quest for my lost jaw line. Yes, it has disappeared and it has to be reclaimed. Fortunately my introduction to Yoga has got me started on the path to recovery.<br />
<br />
A good thing about having abundance of time at your disposal is you get to read like a lunatic and that is precisely what i intend to do. I have recovered unread books from the cupboard and as if that were not enough, restocked it with newer titles bought passionately bargaining with the road side vendor. Reading multiple books at a time is an interesting means to add literary variety although there is always the risk of confusing one plot with characters from another story. But who cares, as long as you are entertained the purpose is served. And oh i am looking forward to the Masala Chai Book Club meet, nothing like being amidst social bookworms and pretending like i read a lot.<br />
<br />
Another extremely time consuming activity to kill the lingering hours is to grab a paint brush and splash the colours on the canvas. Yes, i have taken a fancy for painting and i am addicted for the time being. I find the colours theraputic. Lets see how long this lasts...<br />
<br />
Excavate the guitar stacked away in some dusty corner of the house and re join classes...<br />
<br />
Getting a licence would be thoughtful considering the implications of driving without one... <br />
<br />
Maybe learn stitching. No body makes clothes my size!Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-75825990806767860252010-08-08T14:18:00.022+05:302010-08-12T19:24:41.497+05:30Queensland Chennai - What to expect and what to detest.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP01tFX3lmLOdA_VVwxv7J5CTcX3FBgyHqOG6S39Qd25_CBlcToym5mUnJetxC0iiJ7wDZeP0tmv0fnLHcu2FSWaYyPVjtQHcRajatMjd0ou0_isF_v7TYQXUTMN6Hd9H58NCWNpGQ9cY/s1600/IMG_8436.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP01tFX3lmLOdA_VVwxv7J5CTcX3FBgyHqOG6S39Qd25_CBlcToym5mUnJetxC0iiJ7wDZeP0tmv0fnLHcu2FSWaYyPVjtQHcRajatMjd0ou0_isF_v7TYQXUTMN6Hd9H58NCWNpGQ9cY/s320/IMG_8436.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503350974297304018" /></a><br />Visiting a theme park was one of our agendas this vacation when all of my in laws were home for their annual break. Not a problem. But when you have multiple theme parks and no clue as to how well maintained these might be, the decision of selecting a park becomes complicated. We were a group of 11 in the age group of 9-75 so all round entertainment for all age groups was something we were on the lookout for. After asking around personally and posting a few enquiries over Facebook, we rounded up on Queensland as our destination of choice simply because that seemed to be the one frequented by our friends circle. When in doubt follow the crowd. <br /><br />Set in the Bangalore trunk road, Queensland Amusement Park is just half an hours drive from Chennai city. So accessibility wise it is a definite yes. The park works all days except on Mondays from 10 am-7.30pm. The earlier you enter the better. Considering the sprawling 70 acre area of the park, be prepared to walk your feet off if you intend to see the whole of the park. There are food courts that give you average dishes but not the place to dine like royalty. I guess outside food is permitted since i saw a lot of school kids carrying their tiffins in. Surprisingly, there were no security checks at the entrance! You get so used to it while in the city that the lack of it strikes you strongly. These days even a shabby security check with worn out equipments puts me at ease. Big lapse there in impressing visitors with high end gizmos.<br /><br />They tag you with a wrist strip that counts the rides you take. You cant repeat any rides and it makes sense because there wont be enough time left to try everything if you stay back for repetitions. Proper dressing is crucial. One of the lady's on a Tora Tora went flying off and hit her head hard on the floor when her duppatta got stuck in the security locks and gave away the latch. Apart from right outfit, a strong sun screen and comfortable shoes are highly recommended if you don't want to end up looking roasted and with sore feet. Chennai summers are brutal so make sure you are hydrated throughout. This trip is going to literally fry your brains out, plan it for the later half of the year when the fury of the sun calms down a bit. We made the trip in early August and it was hot but tolerable.<br /><br />As is obvious i am going to be a bit pricky in this review and this is so from my exposure to a couple of other theme parks i have visited in South India. Although it was a long time ago, Veegaland was the best in my list till date. Coming back to first impressions on Queensland, honestly, the whole of the park was a little too dry and colourless for an Amusement park. I know it might sound unrealistic but ideally stepping into a theme park should feel like stepping into a fantasy world. In my opinion visual overload is a must in a theme park whether it be in flashy paints, colourful cartoons, exotic landscapes, over the top interior/exterior design and deco. Now i know i am being hard to please. Clearly, Queensland wasn't Disneyland, but they could still pay a little more attention to detail in making the park a bit more exciting to the eyes. I mention this in particular because i am obsessed with clicking pictures and the dull background didn't give me any appealing shots.<br /><br />Putting aside this initial impression, i have to admit the park does offer a wide array of dry land rides. My personal preference is for extreme rides that make you puke your guts out. Keeping this criteria in mind the free fall, the roller coaster and the different variations of giant wheels that rotate and incline at varying angles at super dizzy speeds are must trys. Nothing like the high you get from having your head spinning and subjecting yourself to voluntary self torture! The main USP of Queensland i guess is the variety it offers. I haven't yet been to a theme park that offers cable car rope way rides, 3 km long joy train ride, Gaming arcade plaza and Go Kart race tracks all at the same place. They also have the Horror house, Fun House and Mirror House kind of entertainment. Individually they might not be perfect but collectively it gives off an impression that there is a lot on offer. <br /><br />The water games however were a huge disappointment simply because there wasn't much on offer. The Himalayan Water ride that i was dieing to try was out of order. The only things left after that was the wave pool and the slide pools. The wave pool didn't make any massive waves and it was a misnomer to call it that. It was at best only a large swimming pool. For some reason they close it of at 4.30pm. The slide pool too, for me at least, was another big dissapointment because i wanted crazy scary slides and what they offered the lady's section were only kids slides which even my 9year old nephew slid through like a piece of cake. All the long and tunneled slides were on the men's side of the pool. Not fair! <br /><br />But just being in the pool lifts up your spirits and you can have a ball of a time if you really want to. Since ladies and gents have separate sections in the pool you might want to make sure you have enough company of your sex before venturing in. Or else you might end up a lonely duck flapping on your own. I had a ball of a time pushing and splashing around my nieces and nephew. In the process i realised once again that the secret to enjoying a theme park experience is to push yourself to go for the rides that challenge your guts and forget acting your age!<br /><br />So my verdict on Queensland is out - worth a visit once but not the place for water rides. The pricky me would give it a rating of 2 out of five simply because there is a lot of scope for improvement. Tonnes needs to be done before they claim the so called international standards.Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-62466824681316976882010-06-09T07:47:00.009+05:302010-06-09T10:13:01.408+05:30Of Faith<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLFSTZ_UExDqarJCe9HaS6S7JDJza1xSGgqW2Y2oS-GDySbxWf0uQF4JZDsMxuJi9g-1MOGZWo3YkjdCb1lKwlQ0C-dMbeKio2eNSrUs28A3evDlwIyNln-ed9MG0PnQtn7i47rnX2uw/s1600/prayer_hands2.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLFSTZ_UExDqarJCe9HaS6S7JDJza1xSGgqW2Y2oS-GDySbxWf0uQF4JZDsMxuJi9g-1MOGZWo3YkjdCb1lKwlQ0C-dMbeKio2eNSrUs28A3evDlwIyNln-ed9MG0PnQtn7i47rnX2uw/s320/prayer_hands2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480623014990318530" /></a><br />There was a time when i was in the zenith of my spiritual frenzy - during the tenth standard boards! A good score and clearing the horrid maths exam were my top prayer requests. I was a regular at the daily mass and ardently listened to the sermons of the parish priest. There were no questions, no doubts just blind belief. But that was a long time ago.<br /><br />Then college happened and literature happened and scepticism happened. Going to church became a habit out of practice. Listening to sermons and mentally dissecting it to locate flaws or dig up the power dichotomy being conveyed became a medium to survive the hour long mass. Praying, well, that continued, but not with the same firm faith. As i got introduced to philosophers whose names i could hardly pronounce, religion became a possible entity that was constructed to reign in people with the fear of divine reprimand. Every religion was a construct of its time and consequently propagated ideologies that ensured its propagation, practise and power circulation. The loss of faith was looming large and i was officially a doubting Thomas.<br /><br />This is not something i am proud of. I wanted my faith back. But it was an every day struggle to start believing in my religion all over again. I believed in God, the existence of a supreme power, but whether that power was the one described by religions, i had by apprehensions.<br /><br />Queries were galore :<br /><br />If God knew everything why would he want us to pray? <br /><br />Repetitive prayers made no sense. God should be capable of comprehending our thoughts.<br /><br />Why should we be sorry for the things we love to do? Doesn't God want us to be happy?<br /><br />If God is all power full why would he let Satan/Evil survive? <br /><br />If the things we do are evil why would God let it tempt us in the first place? Can't he mentally programme us to hear, see, do or think no evil?<br /><br />And most importantly, why would God let us suffer when he could easily choose to alleviate our pain.<br /><br />Shouldn't God be broadminded enough to understand his creations and not be pricked by human blunders? <br /><br />I had my own views on God. And then i read the Bible. <br /><br />I have attempted reading it before but found it insufferably tedious. But this time it clicked. Maybe i read it with a receptive mind to explore God rather than just knowing what it says. This time it felt as if messages were being showered on me with the sharpness of an arrow. Each line seemed solely written for me. My doubts were getting erased and the faith i lost was coming back to me. (Excuse me, do i sound like those freaky gospel preachers?)<br /><br />My hallelujah moment was during the five day retreat i attended. The first few days were a struggle against sleeping and falling off the chair. Then i started concentrating and there were instances which were infuriating. But towards the end there was a sense of calm and divine presence that i haven't felt in a really long time. When you see miracles happening, cancers and lumps disappearing, you just can't sit there denying it. And for those like me who think it could all be arranged with a little money spend on hiring people, you still can't ignore the miracles that happen to you on a personal level. <br /><br />I realised it is better to leave some things unhampered with your meagre knowledge of the world and feel the power of faith. Faith can work wonders and it is better to have faith if it offers hope against utter hopelessness.Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-72438908206591090542010-03-09T14:20:00.008+05:302010-03-09T21:35:31.174+05:30My Culinary Escapades!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMndXRanFIZ564DYlQoYNiK4LgeSTyYUf5c8kxB0o3EBdvN8SJFkg-2T_VrB14Jp2bUdFwrw-T9AEbBIdeXXAAhC_VGI3K1x5iKKLv6q-pqyxvCWNxy8thdYtEYhc9e2tdpQNti69TqU4/s1600-h/cookbooks.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMndXRanFIZ564DYlQoYNiK4LgeSTyYUf5c8kxB0o3EBdvN8SJFkg-2T_VrB14Jp2bUdFwrw-T9AEbBIdeXXAAhC_VGI3K1x5iKKLv6q-pqyxvCWNxy8thdYtEYhc9e2tdpQNti69TqU4/s320/cookbooks.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446554119487499154" /></a><br />Whoever said that the way to a mans heart is through his stomach is a big fat liar! It is most definitely through his other senses if you know what i mean. But the way to your in-laws heart lies straight through their tummies. You can look like Angelina Jolie, recite the Wasteland in reverse and head 100 people to war and that still wouldn't make a difference if you cook like shit. So ladies here is the hard truth - as a Daughter-In-Law you are judged solely by your culinary skills. The tastier and the faster you cook, the better your prospects of topping the charts of a prized DIL. If anyone tells you otherwise they are in denial.<br /><br />I thought i was the luckiest girl on the planet when my husband looked me in the eye and earnestly uttered those sugar coated words "Honey, if i wanted some one to cook for me i would hire a cook." He remained truthful to his words and hired a cook right away to save me the mundane worries of sweating it out in the kitchen. Peace was restored in our paradise and we lived happily. But not for long. Soon enough everyone (including my mother) made it their private business to smirk at me when they heard of the cook! How i wish i could borrow Mr. Potters invisibility cloak and hammer out their teeth!<br /><br /><br />Gradually, I realised cooking is a necessary evil that follows women unto their grave, especially so if they are married. Whether you like it or not, in most cases you dont have a choice of remaining a non-cooking wife. I guess my hatred for cooking goes way back to the day when i was a 12 year old and sweetly offered to help my dad in grinding the dough. I ended up forgetting the number one rule of using a mixer - to tighten the lid! The result was a gorgeous splash of dosa mavvu on the kitchen wall that could rival a modern art painting any day. Life hasn't changed much from that initial disaster. Even now my kitchen looks like a war zone after my attempts of putting together a breakfast in the mornings. If i hate cooking, i abhor cleaning up much more. Why do women end up doing all the dirty jobs? South Indian cuisine i am sure, was designed to make women end up panting like dogs and sweating like pigs with the never ending line of grinding, pounding and steaming. After all this effort if someone dares snub my dishes i swear i wont think twice to shove it off their throats and choke them to death! <br /><br /><br />Even the modern day inventions like the grinder and oven isnt of much use. After all your neighbour wont offer to stand in the steaming kitchen and cook your meals. Forget the neighbour, even your better half wont be of much help after a point. My husband for instance offers to help, but i dont have the heart to make him go through this torture after 13 hrs a day of office work. It was my secret dream to strategically marry a chef to avoid cooking post marriage. My plans were aborted immediately after i heard from a girlfriend whose husband was a chef and still remained adamant on not cooking at home as he does it all day long at work. Life hasn't got much hope you see, unless someone invents an All-Purpose-Super-Cooker-Robot and sells it cheap!<br /><br />So my dear sisters get prepared and learn to cook if you plan to survive a marriage and guys be grateful for the efforts the women in your life put to keep you well fed and thriving.Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-60634283491903370442010-01-29T00:14:00.005+05:302010-03-09T21:41:10.174+05:30Cochin Carnival<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QdnLCAanJMiqaPb4y7Xci5I77Ixi4tKtSMHqoyzLO6BcNUh-Z02v0qrUcbPgJ7kNAxqMmXqp7OQomjtDYJCF4ZimJIBMKTOmES3Is9_DXQ9KMG2eIf7TTaVQhiMALCKLCtBxj4-GVUs/s1600-h/IMG_6128.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QdnLCAanJMiqaPb4y7Xci5I77Ixi4tKtSMHqoyzLO6BcNUh-Z02v0qrUcbPgJ7kNAxqMmXqp7OQomjtDYJCF4ZimJIBMKTOmES3Is9_DXQ9KMG2eIf7TTaVQhiMALCKLCtBxj4-GVUs/s320/IMG_6128.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446667239388651954" /></a><br />Here is something that happens to women after marriage - no amount of time spent at their home is ever enough!<br /><br />No matter how boring or uneventful your home seemed before marriage, post marriage, you feel like it is the comfiest cradle in the entire world. Your body develops a magnetic impulse to bounce back to your roots at every chance you get. It isn't necessarily because you aren't happy with your new surroundings. It might be the best of metros or even the costliest of suburbs. But the longing for your home remains unquenched...<br /><br />I have an insane urge to go back to my home every time a holiday comes up. Maybe its the pleasure of reigning like a queen, pampered by my dad and ordering around my mum that is the cause of this desire. Yes, my folks do get senti about my staying away and i dutifully take full advantage of it. Surprisingly enough, your parents do your bidding uncomplainingly because, "after all she is staying away, lets humour her while she is here". Mind you these are pleasures i never knew while i was staying with them before marriage.<br /><br />Its not just your home that you miss. Even your home town, no matter how dead a place it was, eventually develops a magical charm. For instance, these days i long for the lush green canopy of my state. It is utterly inconsequential that i grew up in Kochi, seeing very little of this greenery while i was there. You start developing romantic notions about the long days of monsoon rains, which earlier used to be a pain. Even a bite of the local savala bajji and parippu vada seem divine treats.<br /><br />I had been waiting the whole year for New years to go home. Its not that we don't visit frequently, but this time we had planned a relatively longer stay - 4 days! Yeah it is sad, but most of our visits are over the weekends lasting only 2 days tops. Anything more than that is a luxury we don't afford (thanks to the psychotic boss of my better half). I had vowed to make the best of these few days at home and enjoy every bit of it. More importantly, i had another mission in mind - to introduce my better half, to the New Year revelries at Kochi. Being raised outside Kerala, he hasn't had the pleasure of seeing any massive celebrations at Xmas or New Years, except the church rituals.<br /><br />We started with the streets, loitering around aimlessly on New Years eve soaking in the sights and sounds of a crowded Fort Kochi that was all dolled up to welcome 2010. If you didn't know, Fort Kochi is at its best during New Years. It is the best time to feel the spirit of the place. It appears as if the whole town is out to party. Bunches of families walking around, kids swinging in the park, ladies doing last minute cake shopping at the bakeries, foreigners clicking pics, couples enjoying dinners at the wayside restros, colonial-mansions-turned-hotels bathed in light, people crowding in at the beach to watch the grand finale of burning the Santa as the clock strikes 12 ushering in a new year and the youth dancing away on roadside stalls - the town was oozing with merriment. It is the only time of the year when you get to see so many people on the streets in the middle of the night in this part of the world. <br /><br />I thoroughly enjoyed showing around my husband the rows of houses decked up with lights, the humongous Xmas tree at the Velli ground, the entire stretch of 50 feet road shining in silver hangouts studded with stars on either side, the Santas lined up at every junction and the Bascillica glowing with rows of snowy stars. Maybe its just my fancy, maybe not every one feels the same, but for me this little laid back town, during this season of the year is a blissful dream. I cant explain what a boost it gives my spirits to be just a part of the crowd, to be in the city i love so much with the love of my life. <br /><br />Watching the carnival on Jan 1st is almost like a ritual in the family. I remember going for it ever since i was a kid hanging on my dads shoulders. I was eager to show my hubby dearest the crowd and the madness that is the Cochin Carnival. The Carnival flags off days ahead, festivities and revelries engulf the town with a slew of cultural programs and competitions. It seems the Cochin Carnival originated as a beach festival in 1984, but some do trace back its origins to the Portuguese during colonial days. On Jan 1st, everything culminates to a grand parade that rolls out on the street pulling in thousands of spectators from all over. The rally starts at 3 pm from the Velli ground with an assortment of local art forms, youth in drag and tableaus showcasing socio-political issues. <br /><br />There are years when this annual rally offers variety and then there are years when it offers nothing but vulgarity. I say vulgarity, because there have been times when the only thing you get to see are men engaged in their fancy of dressing up like women in revealing costumes. If done in moderation it is fun to watch, else it can make you sick because you end up watching hairy arms caressing fake boobs! Whatever said and done, i dont think there will be a Carnival where you cant see these men in drag. I believe this is so because in the guise of teasing women, men here do take a private pleasure in cross dressing. Nothing else can explain why year after year you see so many men engaged in this act so persistently and so shamelessly.<br /><br />Whether the Carnival is good or bad, what always remains is the crowd. You have to see it to believe it. The entire place is swarmed by hoardes of people. Men, women, kids and oldies from all walks of life are out on the roads to watch the show irrespective of how good or bad it turns out to be. It is of course but natural that if not many, atleast some among them are not in their senses, drunk till their noses. Be warned of pickpockets and gropers. Look out for your own good. Police are doing a good job of locking up the causes of public nuisance but in a crowd of thousands you would better want to watch yourself than regret.<br /><br />And for the record, this time everything was arranged in good taste. Amazing variety in themes, some of the tablueas leaving us in splits of laughter. My husband thoroughly enjoyed every bit of it. And i think he finally gets the hang of the origins of the "Kochi- Achi" adage.Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-21697800332421459972009-12-13T22:13:00.003+05:302009-12-13T22:17:16.610+05:30Wondering about the long silence here? Am blogging away to glory in my new blog. From now on only limited blogs will be posted here. Shifting base to the new one. Farewell.Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-80262144147383315192009-09-13T11:17:00.005+05:302009-09-13T13:00:07.663+05:30Farewell Mr.MS...<span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>I was just uploading my latest pics and couldn't ignore the fact that i am turning into a mini Godzilla! By nature i have a physique that shows when i gorge food and remain adamant on not sweating it out. Post marriage i am just <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">ballooning</span> up! Not that i have always been trim. I have had weight issues ever since i remember. Getting rid of the extra pounds was hard because of my absolute <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">abhorrence</span> of exercise.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Let me tell you the factors contributing to my recent <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">achievement</span> of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">going</span> up the weight scales. I attribute it completely to my laziness combined with the easy access to junk food at my work place. The quick meals at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">KFC</span> and the Cheesy burgers of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Mc</span>.D are the prime culprits. Also the weekly outings to the city <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">restro's</span> with my better half has aggravated the problem. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>One thing i know for sure is i cant live without food. The realization rubbed in when i tried out the GM Diet. It was pure torture to live on veggies and fruits for a whole week. It totally drained me out <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">emotionally</span>. Depression set in and i was irritated all the time! Finally, i called it quits on the 3rd day and dragged my husband to the nearest <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">restro</span> to satiate my hunger with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">sumptuous</span> servings of butter <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">naan</span> and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">chicken</span> do <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">pyasa</span>. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I cant imagine how people manage to live through the GM diet! Clearly it doesn't work for me. I simply can't go without food. Food makes me <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">happy</span>. The four letter word means emotional stability to me. </strong><br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Now that i am decided on not being victimised by torturous diets my only other option is to start working out. Maybe i should dust out my annual <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">membership</span> card at the gym. I haven't <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">stepped</span> in there for ages. The reason for my absence is obvious. You expect me to work out when its 40 degree <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Celsius</span> outside? It <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">doesn't</span> help even if the Gym is air conditioned. The very <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">thought</span> of heat outside tires you! So, i had promised i would restart work outs once summer subsides. Summer has waned and the showers are here, but still am no where near the Gym. Thanks to Mr. MS. For those of you who are not aware, Mr.MS happens to be my dear <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">companion</span> in the journey of weight gain - Monday Syndrome. Through out the week he persuades me into convincing myself and everyone around that i will be going back to Gym the next Monday. And on Mondays inadvertently he makes me cook up excuses ranging from work overload to late cabs and imaginary aches in different parts of my body in order to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">avoid</span> that quick visit to the gym.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>But i have had enough of his silly excuses. I am going to assert my will over this perverted psychological issue of mine and drag <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">myself</span> to the Gym. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Tomorrow</span> is Monday and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">tomorrow</span> i will put an end to Mr.MS. I will <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">wring</span> his throat, Choke him to death and bury him deep enough so that he never resurfaces again! </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>i am jumping head long into 3 months of hard training to get back in shape and plaster the mouths of those <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_25" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">sadists</span> who take great pleasure in screwing up my happiness by mentioning "hey you have put on weight". Yeah, like i didn't notice!</strong></span></span>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-80494879600330791542009-09-11T12:46:00.001+05:302009-09-13T13:00:42.715+05:30Arranged marriage? Excuse me please!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWhOjdPyikpOvT039QbXwNdnVHj13pyNDRDgdcTiekScZrXulwhtLmav61MxXwiiFC3Ra8L84Qa5zMAb7U_6SXYzUUu_JJSlJSXuD_sVh3hO7i35a1K1zd4kOLPDy6xesSMp5v7Vb3Pk4/s1600-h/DSC_0129.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380229795621040466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWhOjdPyikpOvT039QbXwNdnVHj13pyNDRDgdcTiekScZrXulwhtLmav61MxXwiiFC3Ra8L84Qa5zMAb7U_6SXYzUUu_JJSlJSXuD_sVh3hO7i35a1K1zd4kOLPDy6xesSMp5v7Vb3Pk4/s200/DSC_0129.JPG" /></a><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"><strong>Strangely enough my whole life revolved around finding Mr. Right and living happily ever after!<br />I was curious about this mystery person who would at one point take my hand in marriage and wondered if it would be a fairy tale or a nightmare come true. That is precisely why when it actually came to the point of making a decision of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">tieing</span> the knot i was in a muddle. Sure, it is a wonderful thing to dream about but the nearer you get to the point of making the decision of settling down the more unsettling it is!<br /><br />As soon as i completed my post graduation my mom got stung by "the-groom-hunting-bug". Once afflicted by its venom <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">amma</span> got into an insane frenzy of deciding to narrow down a suitable son-in-law for her elder daughter. Before i could blink she managed to arrange a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">pennukanal</span>! I was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">flabbergasted</span> to say the least. What about my dreams of running away and having a love marriage?! But then reality flashed in front of me - I do not have any lover bold enough to settle down with me in the first place! I am done with my studies, have a decent job and most important of all I have nothing better to do! So whats the point in resisting!<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Pennukanal</span> was awkward. Trust me it is the most <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">embarrassing</span> thing to be left alone in a room with a guy you are meeting for the first time in life and being asked to have small talk! It was more than obvious that we <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">didn't</span> know what to talk and i spent most of the time fixing my attention on the floor thinking intensely to turn up with questions to ask my potential future husband. It was obvious both of us were blank as black boards and wanted to get it over with!<br /><br />My parents asked me if i liked the guy. "Well...umm...eh...err...your <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">decision</span> will be mine too" was all i could mumble. After all he seemed nice. Let us see where it goes. After i muttered those words, that things proceeded at lightening speed. Before i knew, it was decided i would be getting married to the guy who came to see me for my very first <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">pennukanal</span>.<br /><br />From then on it was an attempt to get to know each other which got complicated with the fact that he had to fly to the US for some project. Internet and long distance calls were the only source of communication. God bless whoever invented it! Sleepless nights to battle the time difference and keeping in touch ensued for the 4 months until our engagement. It was during those days i realised i am lucky enough to have some one as good as him. More than anything else i realised he was kind, simple and caring. Without a doubt he was a better human being than i ever was.<br /><br />Almost one year into the marriage my views haven't changed and each day i realise how lucky i am to be blessed with a partner who spoils me with abundance of love and a sense of security. So, does <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">arranged</span> marriage work in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">today's</span> world? Hell Yeah!!</strong></span>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-9768420610645504262009-09-11T11:47:00.000+05:302009-09-11T14:06:52.828+05:30Back in action...<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"><strong>Just got reminded of my long abandoned blog when one of my friends messaged me that she has started one. My last entry here is almost two years back, when i was about to set out to Pondicherry for my college excursion. Was intending to write about the trip in detail after returning, but some how it never happened. Not because the journey wasn't interesting enough but simply lost patience to sit down and scribble down the intricate details of a wild all girls tour that could never be contained in a few words. And then got busy with other things - college, job, teaching, marriage and settling down in a new city. One thing lead to another and lack of time coupled with lack of patience erased the memories of my nonsensefile into oblivion. But now there is an urge in me to raise my blog from the ashes and fill it with all the wonderful phases i have been through, the things i have seen and the experiences i have shared. Most of all i want to use this space to reflect my life and me honestly.</strong></span></div>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-61530881431648146182007-11-28T22:15:00.000+05:302009-09-11T20:34:01.219+05:30Before leaving 4 The TRIP!<span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"><strong>About to embark on a journey - probably my last excursion as a student. Havent done my packing n i hav tonnes of things to get done before leaving tomorrow but somehow ended up here.Guess the last minute packer in me is compeling me to willingly postpone all the zillion things i am supposed to do before i leave.Wil be posting a detailed account of the trip once i get back.Rite now just want to record that all the universe seems conspired to block this trip from happening.Meeting with hurdles at each n every step....Hope everything goes well..</strong></span>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-7182301946657357472007-11-03T09:40:00.000+05:302007-11-03T22:44:48.038+05:30Kerala Manga's/Monkey's day out<span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;">Nov 1st - Kerala day...once again marred by a hartal called by the BJP... Kerala day celebrations at college postponed to Nov 2nd - a more convenient day for everyone. Am not here to express my anguish about the intermittent hartals in the state. Ashamed to admit, but i guess i am one among those shameful mallus who enjoys a hartal. Any day without classes is welcome especially when there is a test due on that day...<br /><br />So on Nov 2nd our 'self-made-day-for-Kerala-day-celebrations' it is unanimously decided that all of us turn up as Kerala mangas/monkeys(depending on what you wanna call it)...<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><strong>The preparation....<br /></strong></em><br />I hunt the cupboard for my kerala saree which has been dumped somewhere inside the huge pile of clothing after last years kerala day celebration...finally find it crumpled in a corner in the bottom rack...get it dry cleaned...hunt for some matching traditional accessories...don’t find any...decide to do sum mix n match n take out my favorite huge beige chandelier earring that goes with anything n everything...<br /><br />Raw materials found n ready- Kerala saree with a violet border, ear ring n sandals....<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><strong>The D'Day<br /></strong></em><br />Wake up earlier than usual coz wearing a saree is as complicated as those innumerable pleats on a saree. Am 22 n still haven’t mastered the art of draping it.<br /><br />I make a big hue n cry n force my mom to help me in wrapping the 6 meter stretch of cloth...even though am not exactly happy with the way my mom wrapped it for me i make do with it, coz i myself don’t know how to accomplish that perfect pleat for my pallu...<br /><br />Now time for another tantrum show...this time to force my dad to drop me in college coz obviously i cant go in bus wearing a saree...<br /><br />1st of all there is the constant threat of tripping<br />2nd of all there is the possibility of hearing lewd remarks frm psychos on the road<br />n 3rdly i am plain lazy n i badly need a free ride to college...<br /><br />dad falls for the 2nd threat n agrees to drop me...<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><strong>In class...<br /></strong></em><br />A big majority is dressed up in saree n have come exclusively to show off their saree look.So when the lecturer asks us to take down some notes nobody has either a pen or a piece of parchment coz clearly "m'am we thought there wasn't goin to be any classes today!" If anything our bags are full of lipstick, gloss, mascara n all those necessary ‘lil somethings’ which might come in handy for the photo session we had planned right after the lecturer walked out. Pen n paper were probably the last things we thought of stuffing into our bags before we came to college. Atleast that was the case with me...<br /><br />As soon as we are free we pounce upon Asha who usually brings her digi cam n as usual this time too her battery is low so we quickly click away to glory in all possible angles before the battery dies out...<br /><br />The college has organized some special kerala day competitions but we decided to give it a miss n have our own special celebration in a gud restro with gud food...obviously eating as if we have never seen food is one of our specialty.Our usual haunt Cylon Bake House is full on K Day with gals from our college.Guess majority in college prefer spending their K day eating out rather than watching the droll programs in the 'science block gym plaza open air auditorium'...<br /><br />"Cylon housefull so where next??" Someone comes up with Sanjoe n we decide to head there for lunch.Minu who has brought her car is our official chauffer for the day. 7 females squeeze into her Maruti 800 defying the laws of physics n head for Sanjoe. All the while Minu doubtful whether we would make it to Sanjoe before the car breaks down. But finally we do n the car is still in one piece. Minu heaves a sigh of relief n probably mentally swears never to bring her car to college when there is a function goin on and even if she does bring it for some freakin reason NEVA EVA to offer her class mates a ride..<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><strong>@ Sanjoe....<br /></strong></em><br />Gave the order. And am not disclosing what we ordered coz that might surprise the general assumptions of female eating capacity...trust me when really hungry females can get scary...a long wait for the food to arrive. We pass time by the all - time favorite female activity - gossiping...Eventually the food arrives n ‘operation attack’ is launched...15 mins of silence until we have satisfied our growling tummies and then again another round of gossip till we finally decide t pay the bill n head back to our homes...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-89906736840049216282007-10-23T20:12:00.000+05:302007-11-28T22:06:54.544+05:30Get-together @ Bay 'Pride' Mall<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDN9mWCWgrQujfQkeD3qXy-PHXfqTomkRC3YrJ07UdLmJWlzoa9KFUlBpHvKCU30yxN3sivBoCkAhZvYzWc5PnrUlIYLsfgMgBUZu9GlzqG00qdVfv1-oaHUTIoyNUVHv2aWD6vw29qKk/s1600-h/blog.jpg"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124580447164002226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDN9mWCWgrQujfQkeD3qXy-PHXfqTomkRC3YrJ07UdLmJWlzoa9KFUlBpHvKCU30yxN3sivBoCkAhZvYzWc5PnrUlIYLsfgMgBUZu9GlzqG00qdVfv1-oaHUTIoyNUVHv2aWD6vw29qKk/s320/blog.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Last <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Saturday</span> i finally made it to my degree-gang get together! I usually miss these meetings either by chance or on purpose. Most of the time i give my friends the excuse of some unavoidable meeting with some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">XYZ</span> or one of my imaginary incurable weekend flues.Well, its not because i <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">don't</span> enjoy hanging out with my old pals... its just that am way too lazy to move out of my home on a cozy <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Saturday</span>.The prospect of lazing around at home seems much more alluring to me than running around the city on a hot afternoon.Call me a lazy bum and i wont complain because i am one!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">So what made me change my mind this time around?<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Hmm</span>...nothing in particular.I finally got bored of lazing around at home every weekend and decided to catch up with the girls and have some fun.So a long delayed get together was finally taking shape under my friend <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Babinu's</span> initiative.We called up each other and fixed to meet up at our college convent at 10am sharp and then workout the plan of action for the rest of the day.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I reach at the convent entrance 30 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">mins</span> late expecting to find the rest of my gang waiting to pounce on me for being the last one to reach.But guess what 2 years is a long time and people change...am no longer the only one who never makes it on time... It turns out am the 1st person to arrive. What ensues is a long tiring wait for the rest of the girls... i start doubting if they had cancelled the plans for the outing and forgot to inform me...the constant stare of the watchman with a slight tinge of suspicion upsets me and am at the point of leaving when Sara makes her appearance. Finally someone to prove to him that i was not lying about our supposed get together! Thank heavens!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"OH MY GOD u cut your hair! U look different! Your face has so totally changed!"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"What took u so long you %^#$@?! I have been waiting for ages! U have lost weight!!"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"Did you bring the notes i told you to bring?"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"Where is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Mridula</span>? Is she <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">coming</span>? I bet she <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">will</span> come in complaining about the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">humongous</span> task of walking 5 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">mins</span> from her home to the convent like always!"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"Why on earth did it have to rain exactly on the day when we decide to have our get together?"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>The sudden excitement of meeting close friends after a long gap often results in pointless hyper excited conversation.</em> Both of us keep <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">talking</span> nonstop without answering the queries of the other. Then we gradually get a grip and start talking sense..In the meantime <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Mridula</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Babinu</span> come in...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Mridu</span> as usual irritated with the rain for pouring down with the hidden agenda to drench her brand new "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Jootis</span>"(footwear) and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Babz</span> ,the fashion designer, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">popping</span> up in a self made exquisite <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">zardosi</span> embroidered top n <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">jholla</span>(bag)....</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"Where is Helga n Michelle?"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"Michelle is the one who usually gets late. But what happened to Helga?"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"They both are <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">coming</span> together..."</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"No wonder!"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"So we cant catch a movie...the show must <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">have</span> started by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">now</span>..."</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">The two <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">VIP's</span> eventually come in 45 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">mins later</span> with a puppy dog face apologetic for upsetting the whole schedule and giving dumb excuses for being late. The moment the duo come in madness sets in. There is a pathetic outpouring of PJ's (poor jokes) and even more pathetic laughter at the dumb PJ's...Like i mentioned before...<em>The sudden excitement of meeting close friends after a long gap often results in pointless hyper excited conversation<strong>.</strong></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Now that everyone has come ...<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">what</span> do we do??</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"lets go somewhere"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"where??"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"ya where?"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"Hey <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Helga</span> is giving a treat at Bay Pride Mall <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">coz</span> she has been elected the Vice chairperson of her college!"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">yippeeeeeee</span>!!!"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"who told am giving a treat?"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"Yes u are!How could u not give a treat u '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">pishiki</span>'!"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Alrite</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">alrite</span>..whats the cheapest <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">thing</span> at Bay Pride Mall?"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">lol</span>! nothing is cheap there..he he...u <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">have</span> to pay for even the Air conditioning!!"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">We cleverly trap Helga into agreeing for sponsoring the treat at Bay Pride Mall...and the poor gullible sweetheart agrees to pay for 'Black Desire' at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">Abad</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">Foodcourt</span> @ <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">BPM</span>...</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">BPM</span>-A great place to hangout with friends:-</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">1)If u <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">have</span> cash in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">ur</span> pocket </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">2)If u <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">have</span> a sponsor</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">3)If u <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">just</span> wanna ogle at the posh dudes and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">dudettes</span> dating,flirting,chatting,hogging,or simply walking aimlessly around the place...</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">If you are a middle class <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">mallu</span> with no sense of latest fashion trends get out of the place before you feel ill at ease or horribly inferior to the hip young English speaking crowd thronging the mall...This is one place that will make u regret for being <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">just</span> an average <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48">mallu</span>...These are not my conclusions....these were the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">rumours</span> i heard about the place from those who have visited the place before...And my first visit to the place with my girl friends confirmed the report...Sad to admit, but its not a place i would wannna visit unless am looking my best and having loads of cash to burn...</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>Warning for those who havn't been there</em> :Bay Pride Mall might give ur 'Pride' a jolt!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></span></div>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-43413421490145682802007-10-23T20:09:00.000+05:302007-11-28T22:14:16.829+05:30Provoking...isnt it??<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgss-q3lV1uFMGqVD2OCmRfAQdUnPKGhgASBWSIM1iGytBQDdEvi7cEFgFL8jC7OI3mwiYw2wMcp9Dgm1-R3psDgO3V7E1qXeHQpJhkKvNNvuEwtqplYjSmN_LqQVQwfsZanlS-1ymZ63I/s1600-h/Attitude.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124542307854413730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgss-q3lV1uFMGqVD2OCmRfAQdUnPKGhgASBWSIM1iGytBQDdEvi7cEFgFL8jC7OI3mwiYw2wMcp9Dgm1-R3psDgO3V7E1qXeHQpJhkKvNNvuEwtqplYjSmN_LqQVQwfsZanlS-1ymZ63I/s400/Attitude.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><strong><em>This is what i call PRETENDING to have an attitude!</em></strong>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680704280503417654.post-56552460261172192442007-10-13T09:31:00.000+05:302007-11-03T17:22:14.816+05:30MG University Youth/beastly Festival !!<span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:130%;">A couple of weeks back i got an opportunity to go to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Pathanamthita</span>. The <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">occasion</span> for the visit- The MG university Youth Festival..</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Its been quite some time since we had a university youth festival. Last time the university organised one was in 2003 at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Sri</span> Sankara University Campus, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Kalady</span>. Back then i was a 1st year degree student..innocent,inexperienced,ready to jump into anything and everything that came my way.. So when Ms.Jessy was desperately hunting for students for mime i quickly volunteered even though i barely had any clue as to what mime was all about. It was just for the sheer experience of being a part of the youth festival team that i had joined in.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">For me it was an opportunity to meet and make friends with a lot of my collegemates/seniors,to get close with some of the teachers in charge,to experience hostel life for the 1st time,late <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">night</span> practise sessions,mastering the art of mime, ending up with sprained ankles, enjoying the massage offered by the sports dept students to ease the muscle pain,homesickness tantrums(not mine my friend's) ...Those two months of 'no class and only practise' was an experience in itself which i relished being a part of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">in spite</span> of all the bitterness <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">associated</span> with it. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">This time around it was a different story altogether. I was a part of the quiz team. So no hostel stays and late night practise sessions since we were brushing up our Gk on our own.Before you form an impression of an intelligent <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">quizzer</span> about me let me clarify...Am not what you call a 'quiz fanatic'.<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">In fact</span> my Gk is just a bare 'average'...limited to watching the news channels and skipping through the newspapers.This time too i was a part of the team for the sheer experience of quizzing. I wonder if am being uncompetitive but it <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">didn't</span> matter much <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">whether</span> we won or lost. "Do your best if <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">success</span> comes your way time to party, if it <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">doesn't</span> better luck next time" that was my motto... </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">But this time my experience was rather unpleasant. I was definitely disturbed by some of the things i saw at the youth festival venues.No its not the usual complaint about unorganised event management,delayed schdules and foul play. What disturbed me the most was the attitude of the participants and the audience- The attitude of the "youths" of youth festival.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">On one side there were the bunch of students carrying around placards urging everyone to "Celebrate a Plastic free youth festival" and on the other there is the savage audience who rebelliously made an effort to litter the venue. I genuinely felt pathetic <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">about</span> the plight of St.Stephens auditorium were the crowd went <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">berserk</span> and expressed both their appreciation and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">disapproval</span> by tearing up piles and piles of evening news <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">bulletins</span> and throwing it up in absolute mockery of the cleanliness squads efforts to ensure a minimum litter zone.What i witnessed at some of the venues was a generation of young hot blooded hooligans with no respect for private property.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">In the venue for dramatics competition the situation was absolutely chaotic.I can understand if the audience claps or hoots after a performance. But hooting and clapping throughout the entire length of a performance non stop seems incomprehensible. The poor performers were shouting their heart out to make themselves audible to the judges and the so called audience made it double sure that the dialogues were muffled in their constant senseless clapping,shouting and hooting.Either it was deliberately done to mislead the judges or it is the best proof of pure untamed aimless insanity!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Then there is the ugly turn that a youth festival takes on when a rival college bags the prize.A big <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">hullabaloo</span> erupts the moment a college is declared the winner for an event.Every one thinks they deserve the first prize and everyone thinks that their performance was better than the others. Sighs of contempt, angry abuses, protest march and even open warfare is a common sight in these venues. I tried consoling one such lost soul, who was sulking as if a birth right has been denied, with my philosophy of 'enjoying the experience' and pat came the reply "Screw sportsman spirit and damn the biased judges!". At times it seemed as if it was all about crushing the other college rather than winning the trophy. "Even if we <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">don't</span> get the prize <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">XYZ</span> shouldn't get the prize!"</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Hmm...If only some one had bothered to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">instill</span> some basic lessons on losing with grace and respecting the winners...It would have <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">at least</span> seemed civilized.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I wonder if the youth festivals are <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">relevant</span> any more.I suppose these festivals were initially organised to provide a platform for healthy <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">competition</span> among the youngsters to develop a sense of unity and an opportunity to meet and mingle with students from other colleges.But in the present scenario it appears as if these are occasions for rival colleges to express their disgusting disapproval for each other. The menacing ferocity of this years youth festival was at its <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">zenith</span> when the winners hired drum sets and took out a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">procession</span> not just to exhibit their trophies but to thoughtfully gift a coffin to the runners up!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></span>Nonsensefile!!http://www.blogger.com/profile/12050109278517075933noreply@blogger.com2