tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2781396650600828492024-02-22T09:47:48.702-08:00Quixotic WitterComplicated Name. Uncomplicated Thoughts. Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.comBlogger106125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-35804745303040025422015-03-12T05:34:00.000-07:002015-03-12T05:34:00.779-07:00I'm not 27, I'm just 9, three times over <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.in/search/label/Happy%20wala%20Budday" target="_blank">customary budday post</a> turned 7 this year! I'm breaking the tradition since I'm coming up with this *after* the birthday. Let's face it, I'm old. I've now crossed over to the dark side of the 20s, so before I get more melancholic, I'm going to treat this post as an ego-massage therapy to my "Post 25 traumatic stress disorder".<br />
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About seven years ago, I'd have never imagined I'd be where I am today - so I'm going to make this delightfully narcissistic and talk about 27 milestones (some significant, some completely random) in the past 27 years. (I promise that each is only a line long. Or thereabouts.) </div>
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1. <b>Keeping a blog</b> - even if that means writing only one self-obsessed birthday post a year, such as this one. </div>
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2. <b>Working in a software company </b>- Yup, when you can't beat 'em, join 'em! After years of being mean towards the techies who've infiltrated my dear old city, I became one of them - ah the joy of discovering Mac! (And I now know that Github and Heroku aren't ancient east Asian civilizations)</div>
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3. <b>Quitting work in a software company </b>- It's easy to get carried away with the bright and shiny life of Macs, but it takes a little more courage to leave it behind and follow the heart. I'm trying that now, so let's see where that takes me<br />
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4. <b>Acting in a play</b> - And turning up in the front page of the supplement newspaper! And I had absolutely no stage fright (well, mostly because they made me take my glasses off and I could've been acting in front of a group of flamingos and I wouldn't know) </div>
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5. <b>Travelling to Africa </b>- Why does this matter? Because I had to get a yellow fever shot for the visa - and if you've seen me around needles then you know this is a big deal. Not to mention a solo international plane ride *shudder* </div>
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6. <b>Driving in three cities of the country - </b>Seven years ago, I was too chicken to drive in my own road. And now, the people around me are too chicken to come in my way. Hah. (Or so I'd like to think)</div>
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7.<b> Going on an all girls international backpacking trip - </b>Buongiorno Italia! An unforgettable experience of living life on a shoestring budget, without knowing what the next day brings for you </div>
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8. <b>Learning the art of video editing and subtitling -</b> You never know where a skill might come handy, even if you've picked it up in recording studios that inhabit the dusty lanes of Kollywood </div>
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9. <b>Cooking 3 edible meals a day -</b> While it's not gourmet variety, I've come a long distance from trying to fry bread in a microwave. And when all fails, 3 minute mug cakes FTW! </div>
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10. <b>Chasing a criminal and reporting him to the police - </b>The world needs more people to stand up and fight the bullies, even if that means you live a few days in fear of vindication</div>
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11. <b>Learning Zumba -</b> Ok, so it lasted two days and I have the grace of a drunken panda, but it's definitely something I want to try out again! </div>
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12. <b>Training for a marathon - </b>...that I haven't yet run, but just the training process has inflated my ego enough to act like I'm a pro already</div>
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13. <b>Growing out of superstitions - </b>Well, most superstitions...unless I see that mail van on the road *zips lips*<br />
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14.<b> Firing a machine gun - </b>A real, alive and kickin machine gun! In a shooting range! With real bullets! *So* cathartic. Imma build myself a range in the house for particularly long traffic-ridden days<br />
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15. <b>Accidentally propositioning two German men</b> - Hey, <i>vanakkam </i>and <i>wanna come</i> sound the same. Yes, they do<br />
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16. <b>Getting chased by a turkey</b> - Nasty, <i>nasty</i> birds<br />
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17. <b>Walking into a murder scene with the killer standing behind -</b> Yes, this happened and no, it wasn't for real. I'm sure if I'd seen the film crew and camera I would have reacted in a more dignified manner. Screaming and running out like a headless chicken *may* not have been the best solution<br />
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18. <b>Prank calling an eve teaser</b> - Well, he did leave his number and asked us to <i>call him, maybe?</i> Next time, I'll etch the number in a public loo and write <i>call 4 a gud tym</i><br />
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19. <b>Chasing a train</b> - And catching it in the nick of time. And doing this way before <i>Jab We Met</i> made it cool<br />
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20. <b>Swallowing my grandpa's diabetes medication, a naphthalene ball and some shrink wrap -</b> All at various points in my life, but the diabetes shenanigan was when I was 3, and it resulted in a diet of sugar syrup and Cadbury's chocolates for 10 hours to ensure I didn't slip into a coma. What a bundle of joy I might have been to the parents ;)<br />
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21. <b><i>By-hearting </i>the lyrics to random Hindi/Bhojpuri/Kannada/Tamil/Telugu/Malayalam songs - </b> Because that's what one must do to accrue a multicultural personality while growing up<br />
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22. <b>Becoming a tea connoisseur -</b> from cherry to hibiscus, I'm now a fan of teas made from fruits, flowers, leaves and bark. According to my folks, I may as well just drink a garden<br />
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23. <b>Undergoing a technology cleanse -</b> The reason for my late blogpost? I've stayed away from a laptop for the longest time, coming back only when I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown due to the lack of a proper keyboard on that imbecile of a phone<br />
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24. <b>Writing poetry - </b>From the slapstick birthday poems to more serious ones, there's probably a reason why my friends call me VaishKavi (and yes you guys, you'll get your last year's poems soon)<br />
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25. <b>Getting nearly blown into the Niagara river during a snowstorm -</b> Because you know, what better time to visit the Niagara Falls than during a polar vortex?<br />
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26.<b> Making the best group of friends ever - </b>From legendary birthday celebrations to surprise bachelorette parties - these guys have played a huge role in what I am today (and in a lot of the aforementioned shenanigans) - so if you're yawning through most of these because you know them already, then you're in this group :)<br />
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27. <b>Getting married -</b> Probably the biggest coup to have pulled off against my brain (that still believes I'm 23). You know you're in the right place when marriage doesn't make you feel like you're old and dull. 27 is, after all, just a number. :)<br />
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So far, so good! </div>
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Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-29979245130580622992014-02-14T04:01:00.001-08:002015-03-12T05:35:04.474-07:00The Birthday Alphabet<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've broken the tradition. I've finally forgotten how to count and I can no longer start this post with the lines...<i>26 days to go before I turn 26. </i>Hm. Perhaps that's a good thing, and I can start a new tradition of successfully masking my age from now on.<br />
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*Quickly removes the year of birth from Facebook settings* </div>
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Back to business. My <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.in/search/label/Happy%20wala%20Budday" target="_blank">annual budday post </a>(annual in the literal sense, since the last post I wrote was my <i>last year's budday post) </i>will be in alphabet, the only concept I could associate 26 with. Here are 26 things are on my mind as I begin slipping to the older side of twenties. </div>
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So not-so-young boys and girls, let's begin our A - B - C. </div>
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A for Alarm Clocks, which aren't needed anymore...because I find myself waking up with the roosters. Despite having a wild night of reading a book and sleeping at ten. Yeesh. </div>
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B for Bottoms up - that delightful tender coconut water straight out of the natural bottle. I know what you were thinking and no, it's not that. </div>
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C for Cycling - which I need to start very soon, to counterbalance the calorie overload from cupcakes.</div>
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D for Doodling - a habit that's disappeared entirely, after my 100-page-single-line-ruled books have been taken over by a certain gentleman named Mac. </div>
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E for Eengliss that we would destroy on purpose. Now my poor grammar jokes are not appreciated. Lolz, only. </div>
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F for FTW - an abbreviation I've <i>never </i>used appropriately. Growing up, FTW! (right?) </div>
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G for Gossip, giggling, goofing off and getting an endless supply of vitamin D from Garuda mall (you know who you are so get back soon!) </div>
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H for Hashtags, because I have no idea why people use these but I find them #incrediblyamusing. And just for kicks, I'm just going to sprinkle a few here, quite randomly.<br />
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I for Iss sheher mein sab Kannada se zyaada Hindi bolte hain. I want to go back to 6th std where I used to hold my kannada textbook upside down and pretend I understood everything. #learnkannadayoushamelesspeople</div>
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J for Junk food - which used to symbolise cavities when I was ten...and now symbolises early onset diabetes and myocardial infarction. </div>
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K for Kelsa (work, for the non-kannada folk) - a word that's changed so drastically this decade, from school kelsa to assignment kelsa to no kelsa and now actual <i>kelsa</i> kelsa. </div>
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*******really tempted to cheat here and go L for Lemenopee? ******* ;) </div>
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L for Loooong drives (ok, so it's only 6 kms but feels like an era has gone by) - these drives teach me to build character, personality, patience, perseverance, observe the world and manage anger effectively. </div>
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M for Monies - which comes very obediently to the bank every month...deluding me into believing I can totally buy an island off the Caribbean in a few years from now. </div>
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N for <a href="http://samosapedia.com/e/nimajji" target="_blank">Ninajji</a> - a phrase that's not befitting a 26-year-old-to-be at all. But I still giggle if someone uses it. 26 is old aa? Thoo, ninajji. :D </div>
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O for Orange feet - you know who you both are, so this is for us, our whackiness, our long lasting friendship and years of hilarious whatsapp conversations (of who married who, when, where, why and most importantly, what was the food?)<br />
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P for Phoren land - which I've now seen, experienced and liked...but saare jahaan se achcha; Hindustan hamaara.<br />
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Q for Quixotic Witter needs to be revived! (if you're wondering what Quixotic Witter is...scroll up and read my blog's title. Yup, it's changed. And now needs some love so you can spend the rest of the day being utterly unproductive and reading up ALL about my life) :P<br />
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R for Rekindle that habit of reading! Seriously, all I read these days are restaurant reviews on Friday's supplement paper. Appalling, for a worldly-wise-26-year-old-to-be.<br />
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S for Shishters of mine, scattered all over the world. We may grow old and wrinkly, but we'll always give them young 'uns a run for their monies. Glove you all. #iheartyouall<br />
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T for <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qeOfhT44XWg" target="_blank">Tan-tana-tan-tan-tan-tara, chalti hai kya nau se baraah</a> - an ode to reviving the <i>watch sidey movies and laugh your pants off </i>tradition.<br />
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U for Uff, this post is so long I need to start winding up. #endcomingsoon<br />
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W for Whatte wonderphul 25 years it's been. I'll keep ploughing through the rest with the same amount of excitement. :) #feelingsuperduperexcited<br />
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V for Valentine's Day, a day when all people drowning in louue go out to exclaim it. And here I am, writing my budday post diligently. Some things never change.<br />
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X for Xanthippe, because I want to end this post with a vague, unheard (but erudite) sounding word. Also, it beautifully describes me (rude, ill tempered woman) when I'm around autos/auto drivers/auto-anything. #complicatedlatinwords,FTW!<br />
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Y for Yo Yo Honey Singh, which I will criticize, rant and diss for the rest of my life...but will never be able to resist singing his songs when I'm alone in the car (<i>aaj blue hai paani paani paani paani, anyone?) </i><br />
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Z for Ze End! Happy-budday-to-me! :) <!--3--><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--></div>
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Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-70135666982216662962013-02-13T09:56:00.000-08:002015-03-12T05:35:17.471-07:00The Silvered Quarter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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My birthday hits the silver jubilee this year. I’ve always
associated silver jubilees with college buildings, aunty-uncle anniversaries,
steel cupboards and vintage cars. I suddenly feel like these things are my
contemporaries. </div>
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But as they (they = clichéd facebook posts that I usually
snort at) say:<i> Growing old is inevitable, growing up is not</i>. I'll continue the
tradition of my <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.in/search/label/Happy%20wala%20Budday" target="_blank">eccentric birthday posts</a>.</div>
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It's twenty five days for me to turn twenty five and here are the top twenty five things I simply *must* do in my twenty fifth year. </div>
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25. Eat more custard apple. Did you know I tasted this marvellous fruit for the first time only a few months ago? Now that I've emerged from the blackhole of weirdness, it's time I ate it more often.</div>
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24. Outgrow my Cadbury's dairy milk wrapper collecting habit.</div>
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23. Feed a squirrel. I've always been squeamish about going near squirrels...a swish of their tails can make me scoot faster than you can say 'squirrel'. </div>
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22. Figure out why and how people use mascara. And eyelash curling thingamajigs. </div>
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21. Use my geometry box compass and poke the next biker who hits the side view mirror of my car in a traffic jam. </div>
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20. Treat at least one Monday of each month as a Friday, and wake up with the same amount of joy. </div>
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19. Stand in the balcony at midnight and look at the stars. Without imagining that Ali Baba and his coterie of thieves are looking at me from down below (What? It's possible. Very possible).</div>
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18. Walk upto a random uncle/aunty and go <i>"Kya aapke toothpaste mein namak hai?"</i></div>
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17. Read a book from the beginning and control the urge to find out whodunnit before hitting page 50. </div>
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16. Re-read Harry Potter, Roald Dahl, P.G.Wodehouse, Enid Blyton and R.K.Narayan to rediscover the magic of books from childhood. </div>
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15. Go on a coastal train journey, with strangers for company and drink kullad chai from the platform of a desolate station. </div>
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14. Go on a flight that's longer than 2 hours, and contain panic attacks to a minimum of 4 (the current number shall not be disclosed, but I think 4's a reasonable start, thanksverymuch). </div>
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13. Get over the superstitious 13 quirk. </div>
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12. Watch a movie in a theatre without shedding a single tear (as unlikely as it may seem). </div>
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11. Learn enough Tamil to understand the lyrics of at least 2 A.R.Rahman songs, without singing them wrong and making a fool of myself (there's a song where I was convinced the singer wanted his ladylove to clone his heart and eat them both).</div>
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10. Dance in stilettos. </div>
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9. Start treating babies as babies...and not uhm..child psychology practical subjects on whom neo-natal reflexes can be tested. </div>
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8. Stay up an entire night and watch old sitcoms, with cheese maggi as my companion</div>
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7. Ride a bike. And a macho-type bike at that. </div>
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6. Cook an edible meal that doesn't consist of bread-butter-jam or cheese maggi. Or last night's rasam rice. Or curd rice. Or just chips and pickle. </div>
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5. Use my diary to write profound, worldly experiences...not stinky rants about people I'm irked with. </div>
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4. Go for a long early morning dewdrop sprinkled walk at least twice a month, waking up before the sun and watching the city come alive. </div>
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3. Stop seeing Facebook newsfeed every morning and panicking about how <i>two more </i>people have posted engagement pictures...and I'm headed for the <i>Oh no, I'll turn 77 and live in Florence with all my cats</i> life. </div>
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2. Talk less, talk less and talk less. </div>
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1. Treat turning twenty five as vibrant, not archaic. I'll be crossing a quarter of my life (here's where my overenthusiastic optimism chimes in and tells me I'll live to a ripe old age of 100, <i>despite</i> my potato-chip lifestyle)...and it's been a fabulous journey so far. </div>
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A silver strand or two ain't so bad after all. </div>
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Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-87242223617753942222013-01-01T10:28:00.000-08:002013-01-01T10:28:40.886-08:00Shattering the passivity<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've always been a massive propagator of the <i>ignoring atrocities movement. </i>If someone were to call out "Hey baaayebee" at me, I ignore and walk. If a random man waves at me from a car, I look at him as if he were invisible and move on. My theory in life has been that these men are not worthy of my attention, effort, resources or cognitive reasoning and hence, I ignore. <div>
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A small, but significant incident has shattered the passivity within me and proven if my society needs to change, I need to be the one to start doing it. </div>
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My <a href="http://aishulogs.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">friend</a> and I were followed by a man in his car today. The distance was barely a kilometer, the locality was one of the fanciest in the city and it was a scorching and crowded afternoon.<i> </i>I <i>hate</i> the fact that I need to justify the wheres/whats/whys of the incident, because I know questions like <i>Was it late in the evening? Were you out in a secluded area? Were you both girls? Was it a shady locality? </i>crop up every time someone mentions a story like this (and I know, everyone has a story like this). </div>
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We could have ignored it. We would have ignored it, had it not been for the fact that today, the country is finally waking up to fight against such antics. Keeping the arrogance of not wanting to deal with such men aside, we reported it. We got the man thrown out of the restaurant and ensured that his car details were submitted to the nearest police station. </div>
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How is this helping change anything? We have lengthy discussions about changing 'mindsets' and teaching our children to respect women and inculcate equality in society. I'm sorry, but my children (and those of my generation) are not going to begin <i>respecting</i> women for at least another fifteen years. If we are going to start bringing about change in mindsets starting with our children, we are going to skip an entire generation. A generation of rapes, abuse, domestic violence and honour killings. All because we think we can only bring about the change in our own families....which haven't even come into existence yet. </div>
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If I want a safer society, I need to build it myself. Today's eve-teaser is tomorrow's rapist. Stopping him by stepping up and taking action might prevent many other girls from being followed in the future. I used to think that acting against eve-teasing can get me into trouble, giving me sleepless nights. On the contrary, today I'll sleep peacefully, knowing that I've done my bit, albeit a small one, in trying to change my own society. </div>
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Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-19679273499565029562012-12-03T01:36:00.003-08:002012-12-03T01:38:08.461-08:00Witter on Winter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Winter's back in season! Over the years, I've come to realise that winter brings out the chirpy side in me (because, you know, that chirpiness isn't evident the rest of the year <i>at all</i>). I love writing about winters nearly as much as I love writing my annual birthday posts...even more so because winter indicates that the birthday is only a season away!<br />
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There's just some magic in the air when you wake up and feel the icy floor with your toes. The magic spreads to the car, as you wipe off the thin frosty icing from its windows. The magic envelops a seemingly boring street, making it look mystical in a dull haze. The magic follows you to work, as the dysfunctional central air conditioning keeps resetting itself to below 20 degrees, ensuring that the bright sweater you wore is completely justified indoors as well. The magic stays with you at lunch, when a sudden gust of cold wind suddenly gives you a hug. The magic follows you home, cooling you down just before you divulge your knowledge of bilingual profanity at the megalomanic drivers on the road. The magic drags your eyes upward, to stare at the inky blue sky and the little shimmery stars sprinkled around the luminous moon. The magic finally tucks you into the warm huddle of blankets, reassuring you that it will be around the next day as well. </div>
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Overkill with the magic bit, eh? I guess some things are better expressed through <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.in/2009/11/winter-frost.html" target="_blank">poetry.</a> </div>
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Okaaay, so winter can't be all about happiness and delirium now, can it? There is the bane of the chill - my sporadic exercise regimes. It takes a soul of iron to wake up every morning and <i>try </i>to do at least some form of physical activity (apparently, climbing two flights of stairs is not counted as physical activity anymore. My mother refuses to reason with me on that subject now.) </div>
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And then there is<i> </i>my new nemesis. A cat that starts its own version of Salman Khan item songs in a particularly harsh <i>meow</i> baritone at 5 every morning. To make matters worse, the cat sends out its little coterie of kittens to play peek-a-boo under my car...giving me little heart attacks before taking it out. </div>
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And when I've decided to settle down for the night, I see his (why am I so sure the cat's male? Because I don't really know if female cats have a name...so I figured I'll stick to the obvious. Also, boys are snot. I cannot emphasise that <i>enough</i>.) silhouette at the window, sitting majestically like a sphinx and waiting for the clock to turn five so he can begin his grammy eliciting recital. </div>
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But lets stick to the happy bits of winter, shall we? The steaming mug of cocoa with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles...the anticipation of a delicious Christmas and the promise of an exciting new year (That is, of course, if the Mayans are proven wrong and we <i>don't</i> end up perishing before we can say apocalypse.)</div>
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So yes, Winter's here and it's here to stay (for several months, by the looks of the dysfunctional A/C at work). I am one Santa's pants away from bursting into a carol about how awesome this season is, so this would probably be a good time to stop typing. </div>
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Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-13131853110457100582012-10-07T09:01:00.002-07:002012-10-07T09:07:56.671-07:00Malladaptive Behaviour<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A hundred posts and you would think I've finally been cured of the <i>cheesy title syndrome</i>. But then again, what's the point of writing a blogpost if you can't give a Margherita pizza an inferiority complex with a cheesy title?<br />
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So yes, if you haven't guessed already, this post is about malls. And how they've completely ruined the simple childhood thrill of going to a local market, turning us into a malladaptive lot.<br />
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When I was a kid (not too long ago, as I'd like to believe, thanksverymuch)...I used to hate going to the market. My parents would make a weekly customary trip to Sarojini Nagar to buy vegetables, and I <i>hated</i> going there because the vendors would all call me <i>baby. </i>I hated the squishy tomatoes that rolled off a pile and aided the formation of a red carpet on the muddy floor. I hated the green leafy vegetables glinting beneath a swinging 100 watt bulb from a lopsided roof. I hated the mounds of fresh paneer that smelled like cows when you went near them. I would fake stomach aches, pretend to get lost in the milieu of crazy-vegetable-fanatics...I even tried getting <i>accidentally</i> locked inside the car so my parents would leave me there while shopping...but all to no avail. Except the ice cream cone that was my bribe to come to the market, I found every second of every trip an ordeal.<br />
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And so, when malls entered the country (not unlike the locusts entering Africa in Chinua Achebe's <i>Things Fall Apart</i>), I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Now my parents could shop for vegetables in a fancy store while I could peruse books on the same floor. All was well with this new air-conditioned world and I bid Sarojini Nagar a fervent farewell.<br />
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Several years later, when Forum opened up in Bangalore, I was the enthu-cutlet who did a recce of all the half-opened shops. The McDonald's, that HUGE food court....the clothing stores...the multilevel bookstore...I could've died and gone to mall-heaven.<br />
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My affair with the malls continued through college, as I wandered from store to store in huge buildings, took many a movie in multiplexes, had every food stall cognitively mapped out and knew exactly where I could buy what. I had turned into the quintessential mall-rat.<br />
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Let's cut this love saga short and fast forward to today. I visited this swanky mall that should ideally be my paradise. I stepped into the grand facade, looking at everything awestruck, like a kid (or me, even) in a candy store. Every store had a name that was spelt in one way, but pronounced in another. Shimmering fabric was enveloped in glass cubicles, daring you to come closer to see if it was for real. Shoes were glinting under lights that could have lit an entire village for two months...heck, the cost of one pair of those shoes could <i>educate</i> children from an entire village for two months.<br />
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I thought I'd be enthralled at visiting such a place...it was, after all, the king of malls. But I cringed at the sight of frozen, diced vegetables looking sanitised enough to be wheeled into an operation theatre. Instead, I found myself searching for the rustic thatched stalls selling fresh vegetables. I heard the murmur of <i>Burberry-Chanel-Jimmy Choo </i> around me...but yearned to listen to <i>aloooooo-gobieeeeee-matarmatarmatarmatar</i>. I lost myself amidst the suavely dressed people walking from store to store as if they owned diamond mines...and wished for that corner of my mother's dupatta that I used to wrap around my pinky, while manoeuvring in a chaotic crowd.<br />
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I found myself wishing I could go back in time to when I'd begin my stomach-ache faking...tell the seven year old (ok, so maybe it <i>was </i>a long time ago) to take in every sight and sound, that it wouldn't last very long.<i> </i>I'd tell myself to watch that tomato roll off the pile in perfect rhythm to the cacophony around. I'd convince myself that being called a <i>baby </i>as a kid is far better off than being called a <i>babe </i>as an adult...umm...maybe I'm pushing it with this one.<br />
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From Gandhi Bazaar to Sarojini Nagar, markets have this charm of bringing back childhood memories like nothing else. Today, as I drive out of the mall on that spirally multi-level parking thingy, I can't help but wonder if there will be a day when I'll look back at that mall with the same nostalgia I have for a market.</div>
Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-14825030774291315062012-10-03T23:18:00.002-07:002012-10-07T09:02:19.683-07:00Sau Far, Sau Good<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Five years, four cities, three phoren lands and two degrees later, my blog has finally done a Sachin Tendulkar on the web with this - the 100th post. Again, like Sachin Tendulkar, it took many <i>many</i> attempts to get the post online. As an idealistic rookie in 2007, I was certain that I'd be typing my 100th post that very year. (But then again, I was also certain I would become a geo-political journalist and write my way to a Pulitzer Prize back then.) So today, I'm glad it's taken all of five years to get here. Believe me, you would <i>not</i> have wanted to read a hundred posts on how my life was trippin' back in 2007.<br />
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<b>In five years, so many things have changed.</b><br />
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My carrier (as those well-meaning aunties and uncles who intercept you on the way to the dining area in a phamily phunction call it) has taken a blind U-turn...eerily resembling my driving...to land up on a new and interesting road. <br />
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My parents have taken an equally blind U-turn and gone from <i>Oh god, she's only nineteen! We don't want her to elope with some rockstar dude with facial piercings and indecipherable tattoos! </i>to a contrasting <i>Oh god, she's twenty four! Why can't she just find someone to marry instead of making us search? </i><br />
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And then again, so many things <i>haven't </i> changed.</b><br />
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I continue to make friends who are completely ok with giggling like a gaggle of geese (do geese giggle? It just sounded nicely alliterative, though.) They (the friends, not the geese) have been part of some wild adventures (in des and pardes) and continue to inspire the crazy in me.<br />
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I still obsess about chick-lit, weird television soaps, certain shirtless gentlemen, MO of serial killers and psychopaths of the creepiest severity.<br />
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<b>So, What?</b><br />
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So, yes...these five years have truly been a roller-coaster ride. Beginning in Bangalore, going through Hyderabad all the way up to Delhi, peaking in Germany and Italy...nosediving into Chennai and ending back where it all started. The people, the memories, the adventures, the heartaches, the exhilaration of new beginnings has made this ride completely worth it.<br />
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But the ride's only completed one turn...like all roller-coaster maniacs, no one can sit on a ride just one time around...you simply have to re-strap, take another deep breath and get started on the adventure all over again...<br />
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Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-27508256222445271192012-06-18T05:29:00.001-07:002012-10-03T22:41:23.051-07:00Dumbbells and Whistles<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white;">Long, long ago...I had written this post about <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.in/2009/05/yo-its-yoga.html" target="_blank">Yoga</a> . I had been coerced into taking up Yoga because my mother felt I needed some form of 'Anger Management' (She caught me fighting with an auto-driver just outside the house...and using some <i>interesting</i> words in Hindi..most of which she didn't understand, but was smart enough to infer from the context and decide that immediate intervention was needed.)</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"> But there is just something about group exercise classes and live music singers that triggers the giggle button within me. I can neither exercise well, nor can I sing like a rockstar...but being part of either, makes me giggle uncontrollably...resulting in awkward consequences. (During this one dinner, I ended up sitting right in front of a ghazal singer...and chortled through my meal so diligently, I'm sure he was mentally singing a dirge before the night was over.) So while I'll be graceful enough to admit that yoga did help me, I had decided that I would <i>never</i> join group exercise classes again. Ever.</span></div>
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And then, in the words of a teenaged memory obsessed with Britney Spears..Oops, I did it again! This time, I joined the epitome of group exercise classes. The one place where you are judged on everything...from the brand of your shoes to the amount of sweat you work up in an hour. Where extra-teethy women smile at you from huge posters, promising you that you can look like them too. Where people drink water out of the same bottles we used back in kindergarten. Where the weighing machine is treated as a holy object, that has to be paid homage every hour. </span><br />
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I joined the GYM. Honestly, this time around, no one coerced me into joining it. (Even though, I had caught the glares of my family ever so often, every time I bit into that delicious chocolate cake). I decided that I needed to become fitter...and gym seemed like the best option for it. Of course, I was wearing the rose-goggles of optimism, with the distant dream of looking fab tempting me...so I missed all the vital clues. </span><br />
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My first clue should have been when I entered the gym. The first thing I could hear was Justin Beiber pleading with one random Baby. I should have realized that this song would get stuck in my head like a <i>makkhi on gud. </i>That I would end up saying <i>Oooh</i> in the same pitch as Beiber when my limbs ached in agony. That the gym had this song on a loop, so I'd be subjected to it every twenty minutes. But no, those rose glasses were sitting firmly and I had decided that nothing would deter me from becoming size zero. </span><br />
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My second clue should have been when I noticed far too many people looking at my 'gym attire'. Pink sneakers does not a fitness freak make. And wearing an old Google t-shirt that says "I'm Feeling Lucky" became the ultimate irony. The best way to become invisible in a gym is to wear undecipherable logos and drab, dull shirts...with gray sneakers. A good way to check if you're well dressed is to see if you can camouflage with Bangalore's monsoon skies. Any lesser shade of gray, and you're subjected to The Look.</span><br />
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And of course, the actual work out. That should have been my final, and biggest clue. First they made me run on a treadmill. Then do walking on a walking type thingy. Then cycle. All this with the stationary scenery of the opposite building. After every session, I used to limp back home and dread waking up to strange and painful experiences the next morning. Then, when I figured that I had finally mastered the art of running 5 kms in the same place...they changed my entire work out plan...and made me jump on boxes and squat with dumbbells. A whole new set of strange and painful experiences would begin.</span><br />
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Today, I stand on the brink of freedom. I may have turned fitter (but we can only judge that if I have to save a twenty pound dog from a raging fire...or summat). I certainly haven't turned thinner (because my only way of battling with the gym-pain was eating lots of ice cream.) But I have become wiser. My membership ends when the monsoon begins. I'm going to dust off the gym-ness from my *pink* sneakers and take in the freshly drizzled air and jog instead. I'm going to appreciate the scenery for what it really is...a moving green blob...as I watch life outside a glass box. I'm going to listen to the birds chirping and the children gurgling with laughter. Most importantly, I'm going to run far, far away...the next time I hear that Beiber song. So yes, the gym taught me to appreciate what we already have...a green (at least on this side of the town) city, brilliant weather and a vibrant atmosphere. I'm going to soak in all of that in my next attempt to be fit.</span><br />
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Or....</span><br />
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I could always join Salsa! ;) </span></div>
Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-63484597313157730782012-05-31T03:08:00.001-07:002012-08-29T00:00:43.601-07:00Thawing the Block<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It takes a nationwide bandh to awaken this blog from its semi-comatose state. Although I had set off for work this morning, ignoring all the <i>Why are you going? Buses are being burnt, people are going crazy on the streets, throwing stones on glass buildings, shouting profanity at auto-drivers.. </i>(ok, I made the last one up. But if I ever took part in a riot, that's what I would do.) ...after reaching work, I was politely told to head back, thanks to these bus burning people. Hmph.<br />
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Now that I'm on a house arrest, I might as well make use of the impromptu holiday, and inject some life into this poor blog. I figured out the apt post to do it. This post is all about why I did NOT visit this place for so long. (And by <i>visit</i>, I include all the random times I keep opening the site only to increase the ticker count on the right side.)<br />
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So my laptop has turned into a hot gizmo. After working sincerely for over four years now, it has decided that it prefers Delhi over any other city, and is emulating its scorching temperature. If I keep it on for over an hour, I can use it as a grill to make cheese sandwiches. Two hours would produce a decent tawa for a crisp butter dosa. Anything more than that, well, it emits a feeble <i>phatooey</i> noise, and gives up on me entirely.<br />
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I've begun going to the gym. I think that's a good enough reason, thanksverymuch. I usually get back home in a zoned out state, walking as stiffly as a cardboard cutout, wincing with every movement that even saying the word 'Blog', induces pain in at least 19 body parts...so writing on a blog doesn't even figure in the picture.<br />
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I've begun doing bizarre things at work. The other day, I was walking through this forested path when I chanced upon a couple of mango trees. The trees seemed to have been planted by a kind soul who thought he could inspire a Robert Frost out of anyone walking down that path. I plucked several mangoes from the trees and loaded my bag with them...all the while, feeling this childish excitement at having re-lived a childhood fantasy. On my way back, I was told that they weren't just timepass mango trees (you know, the sort that kind souls plant in forests), but were part of an orchard owned by a farmer.<br />
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The child in me would have gone "Muahaha, I stole mangoes from an orchard!". The adult in me went "I deprived a poor, struggling, farmer from 11 mangoes." I felt bad all the way back home. And then I ate them. They. Were. Delicious. So the child beat the adult. Hah.<br />
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And then I got chased by a turkey. The first thing you would wonder is <i>Who gets chased by turkeys? </i>Well, my friend, I do. I didn't even know turkeys could run this fast. Or were this agile. When the turkey finally decided that pecking the grass was more interesting than chasing me, I had my own little thanksgiving ceremony that moment.<br />
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So yes. *That's* what has prevented me from writing here. Hot Laptops, Painful Workouts, Stolen Mangoes and Irksome Turkeys.<br />
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While there's so much more I want to write about, I have already spent a good half an hour on this post...and if you add that to the hour I spent on Facebook and Gmail, you would be nearing the <i>hot as tawa</i> mode on the laptop. I really want to get this post up, and re-read it a couple of times (because I'm that much of a narcissist), before the laptop decides to call it a day. But, in the words of Arnold Schwarzenegger (who is a living nightmare of what happens if you go to the gym for far too long)...I'll be back. </div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-9268255529704306122012-04-07T11:14:00.001-07:002012-08-29T00:00:04.585-07:00All Geek and Latin<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 24px;"><b>Howard: <i>I guess times have changed since we were young. Smart is the new sexy. </i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 24px;"><b>Leonard: <i>Then why do we go home alone every night? We're still smart. </i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 24px;"><b>Raj:<i> Maybe we're too smart. So smart it's off-putting. </i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 24px;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span><br />
I grew up believing in the 'Knight in Shining Armour' theory. From fairy tales to chick-lit, almost everything perpetuated the theory further. That, you know, when you're in trouble, a mysterious man will appear out of nowhere, looking ridiculously handsome while balancing on a rioting white horse, and sweep you off your high heeled feet which are miraculously holding their own, in a tulip field where the winds could put a tornado to shame. (Okay, so I ripped that scene off Baazigar...but you know, we all dreamed of that scene. Admit it.)<br />
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And then, somewhat accidentally (I still haven't quite figured how it happened), I grew up, aced a couple of exams, landed up with laurels like 'Best Student' awards and a gold medal for my Master's and got labelled a Geek.<br />
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Geeks are, apparently, inversely proportional to the degree of attractiveness, according to a friend of mine, who claimed this to be true as soon as he heard I was a rank holder. To phrase him, 'Damn. You've just slipped a few notches down on my hotness scale', said he.<br />
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I could handle that, what with these uber-feminist <i>How dare you brand beauty to be so shallow </i>type lectures just waiting to spout out, but then I realized, that he may mean something after all. Being a Geek does have some effect on how people judge you.<br />
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And you know what's worse than just being a Geek? Being a<i> Psychology</i> geek. Not only does it mean you can <i>read minds....duh</i>...but you can now read minds <i>accurately. </i><br />
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So is that why all the Mills and Boon books that I claim to be a closeted fan of, make the girl all hapless and hopeless? Is that why the knight is the one doing the rescuing? Because the damsel is perpetually in distress, something she could have averted, had she been smarter? Is that why teenage rom-coms always have the college jock transforming the local geek into a supermodel and <i>then </i>falling in love with her? Is that why intelligent men are termed *hot* and intelligent women thought of as *opinionated busybodies* in conventional stories?<br />
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When we were kids, being a geek was cool. I remember people in my class (that I labelled intensely annoying, because they would do bizarre things like calculate relative percentages of everyone in class and give individual report cards of their own out of sheer lack of any constructive activity) would hanker to be around the dude who scored a 100 in an exam, just to 'pick up a few points'. How getting the most number of A's in class made you the ultimate champion of sorts. Most importantly, how Nirula's awarded you with a free chocolate float if you got above 90% in your exams.<br />
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So what happened to all those little charms of being a geek? (Sadly, Nirula's seem to have stopped the scheme...or so they claimed when I asked them...for my school going cousin, of course. Only.) Today, being a geek is all about wearing thick glasses, mismatched clothes, using words that can put a dictionary to shame....and of course, being hideously unappealing to the general public.<br />
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I wonder if that will ever change. As I open the latest Mills and Boon book (which, technically, as a geek, I shouldn't be reading in the first place), I wonder if the hero will ever let the heroine's intelligence speak for herself, rather than her <i>limpid pools of turquoise eyes </i>or <i>shimmering wave of spun gold hair</i>. I wonder if there will ever be a book on someone who is smart, and beautiful <i>because </i>of that.<br />
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I guess, some things will always remain Geek and Latin to me. </div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-28565979255368900512012-02-14T23:05:00.000-08:002013-02-13T09:50:40.837-08:00Two and Two Squared<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Twenty four days left for me to turn Twenty Four. Sigh. If the plans I hatched over a decade ago had worked out, I should've been happily married to Daniel Radcliffe, with a couple of Harry-Potteresque kids along the way by now. But life (or the delusional one I had back then) changes. And now I get to write this <i>ridiculously</i> long Birthday Post instead! (Don't blame it on my narcissism. Blame it on my age.)<br />
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So. When I hit the <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.in/2008/02/two-whole-decades.html" target="_blank">Second Decade</a> of my life, I wasn't ready for it. <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.in/2009/02/two-decades-and-dozen-months.html" target="_blank">A Year Later</a>, I made a wishlist, that, miraculously, came halfway true at least (have you <i>read</i> the bizarre things on it? I'm surprised even <i>some</i> of them were met!). <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.in/2010/02/score-and-two-more.html" target="_blank">After That</a>, I listed out my eccentricities (because, you know, they're not that obvious at all.). And finally, <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.in/2011/02/twenty-past-three.html" target="_blank">Last Year</a>, I resigned myself to growing old.<br />
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After the hyperlink infested paragraph, I come to this year. With the Grammys (No, that word does NOT mean a couple of grandmothers and I'm capable of being musically knowledgeable too.) being in the news, I decided to give this year's lengthy list a new melody. This is the soundtrack of my life. A playlist, if you must, with the songs that keep recurring dangerously in my mind, thanks to odd situations they represent. (After twenty four years, I've realized that 'odd' is ordinary in my life.)<br />
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24. <b>'I have a Dream', Abba - </b>I have the <i>weirdest </i>dreams. Seriously. When I was sixteen, I dreamt that a classmate of mine from college was a serial killer and I was his next target. The dream was so life-like, I actually avoided the poor boy like the plague until I graduated! This year, I'm going to turn this song back to what it originally was. And maybe ping the chap if I see him online (oh dear. That means I'd have to <i>unblock</i> him first.)<br />
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23. <b>'If you're not the One', Daniel Bedingfield - </b>Does anyone else read Daniel Bedingfield and wonder if he's sitting on a mattress in the middle of a paddy farm? Oookay. Maybe not. So this song used to play over and over again in my head, only because I had no one to sing it to and wallow in heartbreak. I still don't. But I wonder sometimes, if people really do feel as emo as this dude felt.<br />
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22. <b>'Kitabein Bohot Si Padhi hogi Tumne, magar koi chehra bhi tumne padha hai?', Baazigar - </b>Seriously. If one more person asks me if I can read faces/minds/hands/feet/endocrine glands, I will push them off the rooftop of wherever we're standing. (I'll bet Shah Rukh did that to Shilpa Shetty for the same reason.) I'm a psychologist. Not a clairvoyant.<br />
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21. <b>'Be Happy', Aqua - </b>Hehe, I just added this song because I really liked it. And I still do. Despite the balding Ken and the blue-mascaraed Chick and the very cheesy everythingelse. And sometimes, it just starts playing in my head and the day looks brighter.<br />
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20. <b>'Hot Child', Nick Gilder - </b>I heard this song only a couple of days ago, and I can't get enough! It *totally* represents 2009, 2010 and 2011!<br />
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19. <b>'Can't get you out of my head', Kylie Minogue - </b>I don't even like this song, but I can give you a handful of bizarre things that I just *can't* stop thinking about. My current obsession? Chocolate Bread. <br />
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18. <b>'Wuuudn't It be Luverly', My Fair Lady - </b>Wuuuuudn't it be luverly if we got to eat Chocolate Bread for breakfast everyday?<br />
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17. <b>'Hips Don't Lie', Shakira - </b>No, they don't, my friend. Not even when you've indulged in chocolate bread and hoped the calories would disappear as an early birthday present. Sigh.<br />
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16. <b>'I am sixteen, going on Seventeen', The Sound of Music - </b>And I always will be. :) However old I get and however long and painstaking the birthday posts become.<br />
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15. <b>'Apologize', Timbaland & One Republic - </b>Admit it. Even <i>you've </i>tried to hit the highest pitch on this song and attracted weird looks in a crowded market. If you haven't, then it isn't <i>tooo laaaaate </i> to begin now. The stares people give you? Priceless.<br />
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14. <b>'Big Girls Don't Cry', Fergie - </b>Haaah. Tell that to me in a movie theatre, as you try and waterproof your surroundings. Won't work. Now. Or ever. Movies were made so I'd cleanse my eyes. Even the slapstick, horrible, I-so-want-to-kill-the-guy-who-made-this type of movies.<br />
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13. <b>'Superstition', Stevie Wonder - </b>I've heard this song, ok? I've not just randomly written it here because it fit the number and my personality.<br />
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12. <b>'Leaving on a Jet Plane', Justin Timberlake - </b>If you don't already know about how my aerophobia has driven me crazy, then this title should explain it. And also, the fact the I like the Justin Timberlake version more.<br />
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11. <b>'Firework', Katy Perry - </b>So I don't burst crackers because of child labour and environmental pollution. Doesn't stop me from singing this number like there's no tomorrow! (God help you, if you're around when I'm in the 'Firework' zone.)<br />
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10. <b>'Crazier', Taylor Swift - </b>Does this need any more explanation?<br />
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9. <b>'Tu Cheez Badi Hai Mast Mast', RandomAkshayKumarMovie </b>- Is it weird that every time I listen to this song, I think about a person being unnaturally obsessed with cheese?<br />
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8. <b>'Kal College Band ho Jayega', RandomEarlyDaysOfMr.BajajMovie - </b>I want to go back. To college. And sing this song around the green trees and wide roads...and stick my tongue out at that rude librarian.<br />
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7. '<b>FunkyTown', Lipps Inc. - </b>Because I feel like dancing every time I hear it. (And that's usually a rare phenomenon. The dancing, I mean.)<br />
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6. <b>'Hey, Soul Sister', Train - </b>Best. Song. Ever. For the best soul-sisters ever. :) This includes the Foo Foos, The Glove and the gang of gal pals I've had all through my life. Also, best Bathroom song ever. Seriously. I could win a Grammy with this one and a soundproof shower.<br />
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5. <b>'Jaane Kyun Log Pyaar Karte Hain', Dil Chahta Hai - </b>I've wondered this every single day of my life. (You know, when I'm not over-indulging in Mills and Boons. Which...uh...I only read on flights, of course. To combat the aerophobia. Only.)<br />
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4. <b>'Vaadi Vaadi Vaadi Vaadi Cute Pondatti', TamilMovieDon'tBeShockedIUnderstoodTheLyrics - </b>okay, so the Youtube video had subtitles. But if all Tamil songs have such a kickass beat, I really need to brush up my language skills. (The last time I heard a Tamil song, I thought they were singing an ode to an egg. And the shame of it all? I speak Tamil at home. Or parts of it, clearly.)<br />
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3<b>. 'Yeh Taara Woh Taara', Swades - </b>Because counting stars on a moonlit night is the best way to forget all troubles in life. Instant dose of happiness, this gives me. (The counting, not the song.)<br />
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2. <b>'When You say Nothing At All', Ronan Keating - </b>I'll bet a LOT of people feel like singing this to me. Or maybe you feel the same after having spent half your lifetime reading this post. Sometimes, I worry if God will tell me one day that I've finished up the quota of words I can talk in a lifetime. That can't happen....can it? I really should start talking less. :-/<br />
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aaaaand....we reach Numero Uno! So if you've survived this literary-ily challenged gabfest, and are two seconds away from murdering me in your minds for having wasted SO much time of yours....what can I say? I was...<br />
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1. <b>'Born This Way', Lady Gaga. =) </b><br />
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Happy Birthday To Me!<br />
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P.S. For further details about what to gift me, kindly contact in the comments page. I've activated comment moderation, so don't think I'll publish stinky opinions of what you'd like to get me instead. </div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-81363479203135336242012-02-09T06:29:00.000-08:002012-08-28T23:59:41.046-07:00Bajji and the Beach<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My favorite fairy tale as a child was<i> Beauty and the Beast.</i> I had a wristwatch, pajamas...even plates and a mug of<i> Beauty and the Beast. </i>I'd re-read the story over and over again, and watch it on Disney Channel every time they aired it. And even now, I have the Celine Dion cover version of the title track in my ipod. I was <i>that</i> crazy about the story. Somehow, among all the other fairy tales, this 'happily ever after' made me feel the happiest. And in the past few weeks, I got to witness the 'Happily Ever After' come alive before my eyes. Made me reinforce my faith in fairy tales, it did. <div>
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So one of the Glove bit the dust. Our Photu-Behen has now gone to the land far far away, after hosting us for one of the best weddings I've ever been a part of (that's not really saying much, given that I've skipped almost every wedding from 2001 to 2011 with the same reason -Exams. And when you're from an Iyengar family, you're excused instantly with that reason.) </div>
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It began with an overnight train-ride to Kerala. You know, trains are so much more easy to travel in, compared to airplanes. I cannot believe I spent two years of my life gripping the armrest with all my strength as the flight took off...or prayed to every deity as we experienced turbulence...or plea-bargained impeccable behaviour for a safe landing in fog....I'd have rather spent three days viewing the countryside as I reached the same destination. </div>
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But I digress. So yes, Kerala <i>has</i> to be seen from a train. It's simply the best way to see it. After a tranquil train-ride, the rest of the journey went past in a blur of Sangeet, Food, Dancing (haha, yes. I finally managed to unearth the right foot and replace it with my second left foot.), Food, Dressing up, Food, Tears, Food, Hooting and scandalizing relatives, Food, THE wedding, Food, Photographs, Food, Reception, Food, DJ parties with psychedelic lights and dry ice smoke in a sea-facing apartment (how cool was THAT!) and..what was that again? Aah, yes. Food. </div>
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I leave the wedding details to the bride. (She is, after all, sitting in a fancy cabin as I write this, sipping free coffee and wondering what to do with her time. Here you go. Chronicle your wedding. :P) </div>
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...and move on to the other best part of a wedding. The FOOD! Not only did I get to try completely new cuisines, I ended up loving every single thing! And the star of the show, Mutta Bajji (that's egg pakoda for those who don't know.) Have you ever heard of such a marvel? Of course, if the Photu Behen had served the Mutta Bajji in her wedding, I doubt if anyone would have hung around to wish the happy couple, people would be running towards the dining area.</div>
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But then again, I wonder how many people get this excited about egg pakodas. Dude. It's egg and it's pakoda. Two of my favorite food items combined to form a fantastic dish. That doesn't happen all the time, now, does it? Or else we'd see more of French Fries served with Vanilla Ice cream in the market (<i>What? </i>It tastes great together. Don't judge, you curd-rice-with-ketchup eating person.) </div>
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And of course, eating the Bajji after a looooong stint at the Cherai beach where we did everything, from posing for random artsy pictures (that just <i>had</i> to become cover pictures on our timelines) to collecting shells (I found one that had my initials, VV on it! And yes, I behaved like a three-year-old on a sugar high after that.)...Bajjis taste best on a Beach, where the Chaetta (haha, call me Pseudo-mallu, chechis of the world) reties his mundu, wipes the sweat off his brow and begins to deep fry the boiled eggs soaked in a batter straight from the heavens, picks them up and puts them on a plate, where it swims in the spiciest of chutneys, and convinces you to drink 'Chaaya' with it, because it would feel lonesome without the tea. </div>
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Watching the waves try and reach for you with the increasing tide, tasting salty grains of the sand as you take that delicious bite....and just being in great company, the Bajji on the Beach was a moment I will always cherish. In so many ways, I've conveyed everything I wanted to about the wedding with the Bajji on the Beach, two entities made for each other, looking picture perfect as they blend into the sunset....with the end credits rolling after a Happily Ever After moment. </div>
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Photu-Behen and Butter-in-law, I wish you both a lifetime of Bajji and the Beach moments. :) Ok, now move along, there still 6 more of the Glove waiting in line. </div>
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On a random and completely unrelated note, I just realized that my customary birthday post is due next week. And that I'm getting older and more invites for classmates getting married is coming into my inbox/newsfeed each day. Oh dear. Looks like the <i>I will run away and build a cottage in Florence and live happily ever after</i> plan needs to be put in action. Fast. </div>
</div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-35647221397887881072011-12-29T23:00:00.000-08:002012-08-29T00:00:26.990-07:00Year We Go Again!Someone told me that the world would end at the turn of the century, so I spent most of 1999 worrying that I would never get to live beyond eleven. <div><br /></div><div>It didn't help that my parents moved to Bangalore that year, making sure that not only would I <i>not</i> live beyond eleven, but I'd have to stay in a completely alien city without any of my friends when the inevitable would strike. (Of course, now I'd say Bangalore is the least apocalyptic city, given its immunity from earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanoes and cyclones.) </div><div><br /></div><div>So as we approach the next apocalyptic milestone of 2012, I'll remove the scaredy-cat sunglasses and look forward to a year that promises new beginnings. But I'll finish my final <i>Oh my god so many awesome things happened this year that I don't want to leave 2011</i> post with a flourish. </div><div><br /></div><div>The year started with <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2011/01/zappy-new-year.html">A Return to the Masterland.</a> After spending a great holiday in Bangalore, I wearily returned to Delhi to complete the Big D. The <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2011/01/two-arms.html">Two Arms</a> were thrilled at seeing me off (partly because I think they were worried that the impending dissertation might have taken a serious toll on my sanity and I may steal a fisherman's boat and row into the Bay of Bengal.) But I finally got the chance to fulfill a childhood wish of wanting to be at the <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2011/01/parade-escapade.html">Parade Escapade</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div>In the middle of chaotic half-edited word documents of various chapters in my thesis, I found the time to write a frantic <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2011/02/twenty-past-three.html">Birthday Post</a>, which endorsed my dwindling levels of common sense. The Glove Day followed soon after, marking the end of the <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2011/04/blue-moons-gone.html">Blue Moon</a> era on my blog. The <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2011/04/illusive-eyes.html">Illusive Eyes</a> became the finale to unfinished business, and I packed my bags, leaving India with my <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2011/05/crime-called-coffee.html">Coffee Infactuation</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>I returned to this blog a little after my visa expired, to witter endlessly about my <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2011/08/phabulous-phoren.html">Phabulous Phoren</a> summer. The hangover lasted for more than a mere post, so it was followed with the <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2011/08/una-fetta-di-fantasia.html">Italian Adventure</a>. When I finally ran out of things to write about, I decided to add a sequel to my Beeyay Trilogy with the <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2011/09/yemmay-yepisode.html">Yemmay Yepisode</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div>Back in the home-city, I figured the first rant I simply couldn't ignore, would definitely <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2011/10/driving-you-crazy.html">Drive You Crazy</a>. The rants continued with my take on <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2011/11/of-love-and-leptospirosis.html">Love</a>. And as a nostalgic time-turner, I wrote the <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2011/11/glove-story.html">Glove Story</a> and a <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2011/11/whimsical-tale.html">Whimsical Tale</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div>So it's been a year of adventures, misadventures, sleepless nights, tiring days, worrisome traffic, lonesome monsoons, hilarious moments, engaging friends (and <i>engaged</i> friends), endless conversations, beautiful memories, bizarre situations...and nearly everything has ended with a smile on my face. </div><div><br /></div><div>As the year draws to a close, I feel awfully like I'm standing at the end of an immigration line, waiting to cross the barrier and enter the country of 2012, as the official stamps my 2011 passport, wishing me a 'Happy New Year'. </div><div><br /></div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-79281734785727472582011-11-29T21:34:00.000-08:002012-08-29T00:00:36.304-07:00A Whimsical TaleThe Qutub Minar is a silent spectator to a different world. As it towers above the green carpet of foliage in Mehrauli, it watches sightseers scattered among the architectural ruins of its facade. It shudders, as the Metro whizzes past it every couple of minutes. Aeroplanes salute the Minar, as they descend towards the airport. A little after noon, the shadow of the Minar slowly begins to inch towards the old bus stop, where buses are parked for a brief respite from the harsh sun, and drivers tuck into delicious food at the adjoining dhabas. <div><br /></div><div>Behind this bus stop, lies a place. Dismissed as a huge ground with a rusty gate, people often miss seeing the cleanly swept little buildings, the colourful walls and the constant chatter from beyond the gate. A car stops in front of this gate, hesitantly, almost ready to reverse and go back on the main road. But as the rusty gate creaks open, a warmth seems to spread around the car. The buildings look brighter and the walls more colourful. As the car manoeuvres around the gate to park in the grounds, the watchman and several boys run to direct it correctly. </div><div><br /></div><div>I step out of the car. A small boy, barely two feet tall, runs up to me, fashions a camera with his hands and goes 'Click!'. Three others watch this and begin to giggle. Before I know it, I'm dragged into a room where they're all playing. Hours go by, and we exhaust ourselves by playing every conceivable version of <i>running and catching</i> games. Finally, an older boy walks into the room and announces that it is lunch time. Bone-tired, we troop into the lunch room and grab plates.</div><div><br /></div><div>Two ladies stand by the food, smiling at every child they serve, as they dole out generous portions of <i>chawal</i> and <i>kadi</i>. The little ones look eagerly into the huge vessel in search of <i>pakodas</i> and they are usually rewarded with a stern look that yields to a reluctant second serving of <i>pakodas.</i> The boys then look pointedly at my plate, so I'm served with extra <i>pakodas</i> as well. When everyone is served, we find a corner in the crowded room and tuck in.</div><div><br /></div><div>I sit among the slightly older boys now, as they tell me about their schoolwork, talk shyly about their girl classmates and discuss what they'd like to do when they grow old enough to live independently. Before we know it, lunch time ends and we all scatter. The boys go into their respective classes and as I look around wondering what to do next, the little ones come back running and demand a story. </div><div><br /></div><div>We find a shaded corner on the rooftop and settle down as the winter sun smiles benevolently on us. I begin telling them the story of Hansel and Gretel....but they children start pitching in their suggestions. The witch in the story develops fangs and becomes a ghost at midnight. The children get superpowers as they escape from the witch. The story begins to turn wild and grows completely out of a 'fairytale' proportion, but the kids enjoy weaving this tale so much, I don't have the heart to bring them back to the actual story. We get carried away, involving Harry Potter in the rescue mission as well. By now, the group of five little kids has turned into almost eleven kids of all ages, two puppies that alternate between whining and snoring, and the watchman, who comes to check the commotion. As the clock inches towards four, I reluctantly wrap the story up with a <i>Happily Ever After. </i>The kids let me go only on the condition that I return the next week with another story like this. </div><div><br /></div><div>As the car slowly manoeuvres its way out of the boundaries, I glance at the rear view mirror. The kids are waving merrily for about two seconds, before they disappear into the rooms, eager to continue playing. On the entire journey home, I try combining my imagination and knowledge of fairy tales to come up with another bizarre story for our next meeting. </div><div><br /></div><div>There is a change in the way I look at life. For those four hours, I'm treated with unconditional affection. The kids don't care if my hindi has an accent, if I can't really match their speed in running, or if I'm wearing my oldest and most threadbare sweatshirt. I'm there, we play, and that's enough. There are few places in this world, that welcomes you with such a bright atmosphere, brushing all your blues away. Some day, I'd love to go back, stand on the rooftop of the building and watch as the Qutub Minar salutes this unnoticed, quaint place every noon. </div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-75018007597195567272011-11-26T23:40:00.000-08:002012-08-28T23:59:41.042-07:00A Glove StoryI love reading the acknowledgement page of every book. It gives me a wonderfully voyeuristic peek into the author’s life, and the people she has been influenced by. In fact, I began my Master’s thesis with the acknowledgement page! It was the one page where my fingers flew flawlessly across the keyboard. So today, I write an acknowledgement post. (Just in case, you know, my book does get published and I have *no* time for writing this because I'd be jet-setting on book tours). <div><br /></div><div>This is an acknowledgement to the gal-pal-gang that has undoubtedly influenced my life in so many ways. Initially, we were seven girls, most of us out-of-towners, a little lost in a huge city. We met each other in class, went on a couple of completely crazy trips (that have all been recorded faithfully here) and became friends for life.<br /><br />So this post is dedicated to them. I warn you, it is a long, somewhat narcissistic (what isn’t?) and definitely an indulgent post on a group of seven people, fondly (and otherwise) referred to as The Glove. </div><div><br /></div><div>Why, Glove, you ask? It's simple, really. Initially, we started off as a group of seven *single* girls out to explore the country's most romantic spot, The Taj Mahal, on Valentine's day. We believed in the theory of No Love, Only Glove. </div><div><br /></div><div>But today, as I write this, I see each of the Glove slowly biting the dust (all in good ways, so no complaints). Honestly, I assumed that when the glove would find love, the whole BFF theory would fizzle out....but it hasn't, and that's what makes us what we are. So here are some quirks about the Glove, and what makes us the wacky group that we are. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'll start alphabetically (because that way, like how it has been *all my life*, I can ensure I leave the best for the last. Which would, uh, be me. This would be the time when I'm glad I'm isolated in a city faaaar from the rest of you.) </div><div><br /></div><div>The Fiery Nair, <a href="http://aishulogs.blogspot.com/">Aishwarya</a> : I've tagged her blog for a reason. A couple of lines is simply not enough to describe her. Currently suffering from a major bout of Birthday Bipolar Disorder where she is showing Manic episodes of 'YEEEAYYYY MERA BUDDAY AANE WAALA HAI' all over facebook...to Depressive episodes where she's re-watching a million photographs and tagging us in emo posts about how we won't be in Delhi for the birthday, she is a total patakha. Aish is someone who can give <i>Diwali</i> an inferiority complex. My encyclopedia of rare and extremely cheapad songs. If a Glove version of Kolaveri Di ever turns viral on Facebook, we'll know who's responsible. </div><div><br /></div><div>Al the Maal: (even though Al is phonetically supposed to rhyme with <i>Fal</i> of Falcon) Maal, she is. The face that has inspired random canteen boys at DU south to fraandship her on facebook, giving us so much fodder for gossip. Alika, or Potate, would cease to function without the internet. In fact, she'd be forced to invent her own browsing device - an ALternet. :P Nonetheless, thanks to you, we have Muttley, the official Glove pet! And yes, your stalking abilities know no bounds. I'm still very grateful for that long 479 bus ride where you answered almost every arbitrary query I had about the origin of life. Go figure! </div><div><br /></div><div>Indu, the Blue Moon: When she first told me her name meant the moon, I didn't realize how true she lives up to the phrase - a blue moon. Her appearance on cyberspace is really a celestial miracle. But all said and done, she's an extremely witty and hilarious person to be around. From that moonlight excursion at JNU (and yes, I did think there were kidnappers lurking in all those secluded forests inside.) to long long walks in Dortmund, Indu's presence in the Glove is no less than 4 Daler Mehendis in Tunak Tunak Tun (which we will *definitely* rework on.) </div><div><br /></div><div>Mash, The Subtle Bihari Vajpayee: Mahashweta is what we call, the anticlimax of subtlety. We've been caught like deer in headlights SO many times by her blatant observations, but her winning smile has always gotten us through the embarrassments! </div><div><br /></div><div> A small example of this would be: </div><div>Al: Psst. Don't look now, but that creepy dude in the library is watching us here again. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mash: Really? *Lights up* Where? Where? *Looks <i>everywhere</i>, making sure even non-creepy dudes look at us now* I can't see him ya! </div><div><br /></div><div>Mash, we love you for those priceless gems in the canteen! And the maggi cravings. And the salient, but strong stability you bring to us insane ones. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mizaj, the Photu-Behen: Words can't describe her, because she will hand you 15 GB worth of pictures that can! She has, in her own inimitable style, captured every emotion, every moment and every thread of the fabric that makes the Glove. But behind the lens, lies a very special person. (who *just* cannot pick up the phone, damn it.) Again, my encyclopedia for a *million* odd doubts about everything. Also, the reason for Glove opening its arms to a new member, Butter-in-Law. :) (You *do* know that our presence may somewhat turn the wedding into a bollywood masala movie, right?) </div><div><br /></div><div>Goswami, the Mommy: Sneha (sometimes, I forget that's what your parents named you!) is the Mommy of the Glove. In fact, she's The Mommy. Period. Be it making us reach college on time, or settling the constant random squabbles, mommy's presence is impossible to miss. Those Janpath raids for earrings and Sarojini raids for Gladiators, I love watching mommy bargain with all the bhaiyas. Of course, her most precious dialogue is only meted out to us: <i>Chappal Marungi tere ko!</i> And of course, we never take her threats seriously. No one can, when it is meted with that electrocuting smile! </div><div><br /></div><div>Aaaand Me: Haha. So I figured I'd write a long glowing list about my awesomeness, and then realized, this blog does that anyway. :P I shall spare the readers. This. One.Time. </div><div><br /></div><div>So this makes up the seven rare species that make the Glove. We redefine 'Fraandship'. 'Nuf said. </div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-8777403841734927982011-11-03T21:23:00.000-07:002012-08-28T23:59:10.065-07:00Of Love and LeptospirosisI can think of no other 'young adult' who would use Love and Leptospirosis in the same phrase. But then again, what's the point of a blogpost if the title doesn't catch your attention. It's monsoon time (okay, meteorologically speaking it may not be. But where I come from, it rains perpetually.) Time for two conditions, both equally debilitating and capable of losing your sanity over. If you clicked on this post because of the title, then you would belong to either of the given two categories. <div><br /></div><div>a) Love - Ah, so you're a sucker for the 'Happily-Ever-After' *Heart-Heart* type stories, aren't you? I don't mean to sound like a cynic, but they only exist in Mills and Boon. If those books weren't so darned unputdownable during turbulent flights, I would've been the first person to diss them. But they really cure me of aerophobia and I have nothing against them. It's just the illusion that they create about eternal love, which makes me cynical. And I hate that. I want to be able to believe in things like 'Love at First Sight', bumping into Prince Charming at a completely random place, reunions with old friends - the fodder for all these books. But reality steps in and takes over my hyperactive imagination. </div><div><br /></div><div>Actually, reality steps in a little too hard. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now when I see the rains, I don't worry about not having someone to dance around the trees with. I worry about...</div><div><br /></div><div>b) Leptospirosis -- In case you haven't heard of it, it is a rare case of rat-fever that occurs most commonly during monsoons because of rats and waterlogging. If there is such a thing as a perfect couple, its rats and sewer water. (You must be thinking <i>what on earth has happened to this person, jumping from love to sewers in a single page!!</i>). But its true. A disease that is rampantly gaining awareness (if not patients), due to the ideal conditions this city presents. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sigh. I want to go back to being the old me. Seeing rains and running out to the terrace. Seeing kochhe (kichad, for the non-kannada colloquial connoisseurs) and jumping in it with full force so I can get my friends' shoes all icky. (if you haven't already concluded I'm weird from the title, then this should clinch it.) Walking in a drizzle to eat ice cream with hot chocolate sauce. Just staring at the pearly downpour. </div><div><br /></div><div>For love, I'd trade my Prince Charming for Pied Pieper anyday. </div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-31547262485955075512011-10-02T05:10:00.000-07:002012-08-28T23:59:10.059-07:00Driving You Crazy.It's 9.10, and I have class in ten minutes. I gulp down the last bite, race down one flight of stairs, race back up to take the keys, then race down three floors (stopping at second floor auntie's landing to check my hair in the mirror) and sprint to the parking place where my stately car is parked, knowing that it is about to endure another arduous journey. <div><br /></div><div>Driving in Delhi is always fun. It's like one of those roller coasters that offer a thrill, but you know you're not going to get a cardiac arrest halfway through because of its steep turns or sudden twists. Like a predictable, tame, roller coaster. Leaving you with a warm fuzzy feeling, that you generally get after drinking Hot Chocolate on a cold night. </div><div><br /></div><div>No, I'm serious! And this is coming from someone who only drove a car for the entire distance of about ten meters into the garage. After having had a license for over five years. Among other things, Delhi gave me the courage to get behind the wheel. The wisdom to calmly step on the accelerator when you may have caused havoc due to a bad U-turn. The knowledge of profanity in several languages (mostly Kannada, though. Given that Delhiites don't know the native language of us Bangaloreans. Or that this language even exists.). The thrill of overtaking a flashy neon car with weird bumper stickers and yelling 'Baap ka Raasta Hai Kya?' And the suspense of watching a signal meltdown as two irate drivers bring out their weapons to fight about a harmless bumper-touch-bumper accident. </div><div><br /></div><div>But living near the ring road spoiled me completely. In two minutes, I'd be cruising along the flyover-ridden, signal-free wide lanes with no worry about oncoming traffic. And the campus spoiled me further with ample parking space and empty lanes. </div><div><br /></div><div>But then I came home. And so did my poor car, which no longer had the distinction of being the only KA on campus. It has to endure a 7 km journey across narrow roads with two way traffic. What's worse, is that I go on this creepy flyover that becomes a one-way after 9 in the morning. So if I'm caught on it at, like 8.59, the oncoming traffic just decides to bombard me.</div><div><br /></div><div>The other day, I was harmlessly stalking a auto-trailer type gaadi. No, seriously, I was going on the same road as him for over twenty minutes, and the man sitting at the back with all the furniture or something was <i>convinced</i> I was following him. Of course, I didn't feel the need to overtake him despite having lots of room. And I kept smiling cheerily at him. And it hit me (a thought, not the gaadi.)</div><div><br /></div><div>I missed driving in Delhi. I missed switching on the morning radio and listening to Mausam Mausi's bekaar vichaar, despite having the mad rush to reach on time. I missed cursing every git who drove in the wrong lane on that IIT-Delhi-Adhchini crossing. I missed turning smoothly into my green campus and having the choice of picking *any* slot to park. Most of all, I missed being the sole KA in a roadful of DLs. </div><div><br /></div><div>Delhi, it took you just two years to drive me completely crazy about you. And now, I take this wisdom and drive everyone else crazy with my crazy driving. And it's totally worth it. </div><div><br /></div><div>*Evil-Mad-Driver-Laugh* </div><div><br /></div><div>Note: When I'm bored, I like to drive at the speed of 40kmph on an empty road while singing 'Hey There, Delilah!' loudly to myself. This is just a statutory warning for those who sit beside me in my car, or have the misfortune of being behind my car. No, I don't let people overtake me. And yes, I get bored easily. I have the attention span of a fruit fly. </div><div><br /></div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-10081401013103247242011-09-14T06:28:00.000-07:002012-08-28T23:58:42.230-07:00A Yemmay YepisodeThe Beeyay trilogy was all about getting back at people who assumed I must've done a BA because: <div>a) <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2007/10/oh-so-youre-doing-beeyay.html">Beeyay I</a> - I failed miserably in my bored exams, which would, in essence, mean I failed miserably in <i>Life. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>b) <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2008/04/so-youre-doing-beeyay-part-2.html">Beeyay II</a> - I am a girl. It doesn't matter what I do anyway. </div><div><br /></div><div>c) <a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2008/11/beeyay-iii-back-in-action.html">Beeyay III</a>- I want to become famous, so I can go around giving interviews about having risen above the sheep and chosen 'the road not taken'. (Okay, so *maybe* I can hope for this one to actually come true.) </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I spent three years of my life running away from any social situation that reeked of subliminal career inquisitions. And then I cleared the Yemmay program. To a mere ignorant, a Yemmay is just another degree. But to me, it is a key to gain entry into a socially approved educational level. Simply put, a Yemmay comes somewhat *close* to that much revered BeeYee or YemBeeBeeYess. Because a Beeyay was, of course, just something we all did to <i>pass time</i>. This is the *real* degree. </div><div><br /></div><div>A Yemmay makes me all sound post-graduate-y and the gives me the infinite license to unleash my psychoanalytical powers on the poor unsuspecting relative-aunties who had made the mistake of asking me if I could "Read Minds". (Actually, it's a trick I've followed for quite a while now. I give them this intense <i>intellectual</i> look and they actually do get flustered thinking I'm overanalyzing them...when in fact, I'm wondering what's for dinner. At their place.) </div><div><br /></div><div>A Yemmay qualifies me to talk about issues of Child and Adolescent Mental Health, and not be considered as part of that age-bracket. Gone are the days of 'What would you know? You are just a child'. </div><div><br /></div><div>A Yemmay is a Yemmay. Just that. A Master. And not just of Disaster (as I like to call myself. I mean, on one single day, I managed to collide into three wheelchairs and startle the living daylights of the people in them, just because I was concentrating on the cobble-stoned paths of Germany.) Being called a Master of something is one hell of an ego-massage. (And I don't mean pets.) </div><div><br /></div><div>To me, the Yemmay opened a whole new world (and I say this with the *exact* sentiment Alladin used while cavorting on a magic carpet with Jasmine.) I re-discovered the city I considered myself an eternal part of, when I was seven. I made a group of friends who are as inseparable as the fingers of a Glove. I interned in the country's best hospital and met some of the most interesting people ever. I learnt to live independently and work towards something I actually believed in, and not something I had to do because others *approved*. </div><div><br /></div><div>So Yemmay I am. In Clinical Psychology, no less. And when I started writing this post, it started off as an '<i>Open Letter to all aunties and uncles who think a Beeyay is worthless and a Yemmay is worthless-and-a-half</i>' (Because Open letters are, apparently, the key to getting a lot of hits on your blog.) But halfway through, I ended up realizing how much the Yemmay means to me, and I don't want to deride it by defending it so vehemently anymore. </div><div><br /></div><div>My Yemmay has effectively placed the proverbial speed breaker* on all comments and retorts about my choice of education now. </div><div><br /></div><div>Although, I kind of wish it could make me look a little older and wiser. While attending an interview at this huge hospital recently, the lady managing the appointments looked at me (and I was carrying my marks cards and sporting a rather unnecessarily wide smile. Which was obviously odd, given that I was in a psychiatric ward.) and called the psychiatrist to tell her, 'Doctor. Patient for the 3.30 appointment has arrived.' </div><div><br /></div><div>And I had gone to a <i>Child Psychiatrist. </i>Sigh. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>* For all the non-kannada-non-tamil speaking people: A <i>Yemmay</i> not just an accented MA. It is actually, a buffalo. Hence the proverbial speed-breaker. If you want an actual demonstration of the fact, I suggest you drive down any residential road in Bangalore. They'll be there to greet you. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-86141700989821814992011-08-24T04:25:00.000-07:002012-08-28T23:58:16.499-07:00Una Fetta di Fantasia<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijW7WyFsf98o64Ovs05DmLDSsBOIUJePFp_7AI_dwaNfV78TQFIX-gVqhTjBNTIH4fTv6Fq8c61oSVsk3icTcyelMwsQziXro6wtsHFtsY9Dg3QWI2UimGCJl-keNpA9B0L21bQqyw28s/s1600/IMG_6388.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijW7WyFsf98o64Ovs05DmLDSsBOIUJePFp_7AI_dwaNfV78TQFIX-gVqhTjBNTIH4fTv6Fq8c61oSVsk3icTcyelMwsQziXro6wtsHFtsY9Dg3QWI2UimGCJl-keNpA9B0L21bQqyw28s/s320/IMG_6388.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651115891886282850" /></a><br />A Slice of Fantasy. *That's* how my trip to Italy was. Covering 4 cities and 1 country (The Vatican) in 5 days, and having a blast every minute of those days, is nothing short of a fantasy. Of course, given my manic obsessive self, I'm surprised how it even got covered so well so fast. Therefore, I begin this post with a huge hug to the four girls I shared this fantasy with. Had I traveled alone, I may have still landed up stranded at midnight in Florence, lived in a campsite in Venice, overdosed on Sangria in Milan and navigated through the streets of Rome.....but it wouldn't have been half as fun as it was doing ALL of this with you guys. :) So I-M, Potate and Fiery-Nair (yes, that's your new blog-name. I got tired of calling you Ash like a wannabe Aishwarya Rai groupie), I hope reading this post brings back lots of great memories. <div><br /></div><div>We packed off, switched three trains and traveled through Switzerland to reach our first destination - Milano. Other than the fact that I absolutely *loved* the facade of Milano Centrale, the main station (It has nothing to do with the fact that they have a huge poster of half-naked Nadal advertising Armani jeans -nosirree.), the station represented the city itself - Glamorous and Gigantic. Whether it was exploring the city by tram or walking through the famous Galleria Vittorio (which houses all the famous Italian fashion brands), Milan took the prize for being a perfect blend of Modernity and History. It was like flipping a page of Roman Civilization and landing at FTV. But the food -ah! From Pizzas that could give tablecloths an inferiority complex (for the sheer size....not the texture or any other bizarre reason you may have thought of as you read the line), to fruity Granitas and Sangria. The eye-candy (Ahem, henceforth referred to as Pakodas) were aplenty. And the lilt in the accent of every Milanese (is that a dog-breed or am I allowed to use it for people of Milan?) was so endearing, we ended up speaking to each other like wannabe Italian Mafia with huge mustaches and cigars. (Read: Tom Hanks' dialogue in You've Got Mail, where he goes 'Monday-Tuesday-Thursday-Wednesday')</div><div><br /></div><div>From Milan, we went to Venice. Expecting singing Gondola-men and beautiful little rivulets which can lead you to undisclosed pieces of heaven, I went to Venice with an overload of Romantic movies in my mind. I discovered soon enough that The Gondola-men don't sing. Not even if you glare down at them from a bridge(The honeymooning couple sitting in that Gondola did glare back, though.) We found ourselves a little place in the tourist hustle and bustle, and threw our feet in the Adriatic Sea with a view of the Venetian Skyline (or a bit of it, at least). Watching the many many channels of water meandering through a city that practically floats, I was lost to its charms. So I didn't find Venice as romantic as my Mills-and-Boon infested imagination had expected it to be. But it wasn't disillusioning either. It's one city I'd love to go back, just to explore all those little canals, leading to what they would call their home, but I'd call a floating fantasy. </div><div><br /></div><div>Venice led us on further to Florence. The city I will most probably end up when I'm old and need to write those books I keep talking about. I *loved* Florence from the very beginning. The yellowed buildings (which would have reminded a less romantic me of Jaundice) made me think of sunshine and old pages from a history book. Watching the silvery Arno river wind its path through the heart of the city, I decided that I'd go back and find myself a house and live happily ever after here.</div><div><br /></div><div>From Florence, we went to Rome. Now the only plan I had in Rome was to steal coins from the Fontana dell'Amore (because, of course, *that's* how one finds true love. If you're cynical about it, go watch When in Rome.). Instead of finding the fountain (which turned out to be fictitious, by the way. Sigh.), I found a city that is so quaint, it's like going into a parallel time-frame. The cobblestone streets, the marble beauty of Pantheon, La Piazza Espagna and Fontana di Trevi and little cafes that dot the entire city made me wonder how people can even live normal lives in this city. If it were me, I'd be constantly wandering around town, discovering a new marvel each day. (Yes, because having lived in one of the most historically beautiful capitals in the world, New Delhi, I haven't had the time to even go to Lodhi Gardens, and here I hatch plans to Wander in Rome.) </div><div><br /></div><div>Rome prodded us towards the Vatican, which, true to the cinematography of Angels and Demons (which I saw *after* my trip to Italy), is magnificent. Of course, winking at the Swiss Guard was not exactly the kind of behaviour the papal decree would expect.....but ah, that *was* fun! </div><div><br /></div><div>This brought us back to Milan, which led us homeward through Switzerland again. The journey held with it, a potluck of memories from every city that's unforgettable. Sitting for hours in a fountain outside a castle (<i>Castello) </i>in Milan and watching life whoosh by. Searching an entire city for Hot Chocolate, but finding it in a campsite outside Venice and relishing every sip. Missing the last bus in Florence and walking along the empty, sleeping streets. Holding maps and trying to find the shortest path to any destination in Rome, but getting lost and discovering better places instead. Meeting strangers in trains, weaving stories of strangers not met in trains. Watching the beautiful lakes of Switzerland melting perfectly into the Alps. This trip truly was - Una Fetta di Fantasia.</div><div><br /></div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-71530924422008126882011-08-18T08:25:00.000-07:002012-08-28T23:58:16.497-07:00The Phabulous PhorenSo I'm now <i><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Phoren</span>-Returned.</i> After having spent a refreshingly long summer 'abroad', I feel the need to proclaim to the world that I too, have a slightly blurry, but very dark stamp on my passport from the Immigrations office at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">IGI</span> airport, New Delhi. Of course, my first <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Phoren</span> experience was when I went to Singapore at the age of fourteen, but that didn't quite count because: <div>a) We flew Air India (which had more Indians in it than I would find in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Sarojini</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Nagar</span>). </div><div>b) We stayed in Little India (which, again, reminded me of Gandhi bazaar in Bangalore for some bizarre reason). </div><div>and c) We ate primarily in Indian restaurants. (It was at least better than going to McDonald's and asking them to give us burgers <i>without</i> the meat patties....which we did a fair number of times before resorting to Indian food.) </div><div>
<br /></div><div>So yes, Singapore? Fun <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Phoren</span> destination, but never made me feel <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Phoren</span>-returned. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Let's get back on the widely oscillating trajectory of the post, then, shall we? Today, I truly feel <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Phoren</span>-returned. For a wide range of unfathomable reasons that I've tried really hard to convince my parents with...but hasn't entirely worked. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I am jet-lagged. Have been for the past week or so. And I suddenly feel the urge of using words from a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">phoren</span> language when I'm particularly exasperated or excited. I also feel like I should turn up my nose at the pizzas in India because I've sampled the tastes from their ancestors and I have friends on my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">facebook</span> profile who do not share my ethnicity, nationality or colour. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>See what two years in Delhi has done to me? Freshly Post-Graduated and I'm already acting like a typical <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Delhite</span> who won't think twice before proclaiming to the world about being <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">phoren</span>-returned and having made contacts-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">shontacts</span>. But it's fun to live this vibrant life, given that my past few months are going to be the fodder for many daydreams in the coming months, until I find myself a path...which we shall delve into later. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Details? Well, I went to Germany for a three month summer program working with people having Autism Spectrum Disorders. Social Inclusion was our primary motive and in the process, I got the opportunity to observe a <i>vast</i> range of therapeutic techniques that is being used for people with various types of mental disabilities. Before this begins to resemble a Statement of Purpose, I'll drive home the point that it was a mind blowing experience for me. Not only did it strengthen my career ambitions to work in this field, but gave me direction and perspective that should hopefully, tide me through the next couple of months ridden with utter joblessness. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>That being said, I spent a huge amount of time this summer travelling. Finally, the word 'travelling' in the 'Interests' section can hold some solid ground. The one question that most people bombarded me with on my return was (Hang on...I like how that sentence sounds! Almost as if paparazzi was waiting outside <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">IGI</span> airport with mikes and cameras, eagerly asking me...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">haha</span>. Right. Moving on.) 'Did I like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Phoren</span> more than India?' </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Honestly? I definitely liked the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Phoren</span>. Sure, the population density is far less claustrophobic, the public transport is cleaner, if not more punctual. The scenery is more post-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">cardish</span>. The nights are eerily quieter. In fact, the nights are much shorter, given that the sun would only reluctantly retire at 10.30 and promptly wake up at 4.30. There was some sense of safety as well, I suppose, given that we were stranded in Florence at 1 in the morning and I didn't really feel the urge of running to the nearest Police station. And of course, there was the definite aura of being in a 'developed' country, as a lay and under-read follower of economics would put it. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>But being in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Phoren</span>-land didn't deter me from playing the National Anthem on a piano in the city center. It didn't stop me from talking to complete strangers in a Cathedral in Milan, and later in a campsite in Venice just because they were <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Kannadigas</span> and I felt like I should socialize. (See how I keep dropping hints about where all I went so innocuously? The posts that will follow will reek of narcissism, my friend. This is but a gentle reminder of the fact.) It didn't stop my friends and me from loudly conversing in Hindi wherever we went, knowing very well that heads would turn and ears would prick up. (Incidentally, I discovered that Indians are <i>everywhere</i>. In fact, we climbed over 580 steps to touch the peak of cathedral at Cologne, just to see someone having scribbled something in Tamil on the walls there. And don't get me started on the graffiti in Hindi I found on the Berlin wall.) It didn't stop me from flicking the cheese and crackers from my airline meals, because I didn't feel like eating them at that moment. It certainly didn't deter me from singing songs out loud in the rain, because it would be something I would do in India, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Phoren</span> was no different. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>When the stewardess brought my fantastic <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">phoren</span> journey to a halt by announcing 'We welcome you to New Delhi's Indira Gandhi International Airport..the outside temperature is 36 degrees', I couldn't wait to be enveloped by the stifling humid air and the claustrophobic dense population and the cacophony and chaos of the city.....I came home. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Apparently, you can inject any amount of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Phoren</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">ness</span> into my passport, but you can never take out the Indian from me. Before I start sounding like an over-patriotic '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">phoren</span>-returned' <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">phool</span> and start singing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Vande</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Mataram</span>, I will conclude this post. This is just a teaser, an introduction to a summer that is going to be chronicled on this blog for the lack of better things to do. Also, because I like to show off a little bit. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>P.S. Speaking of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Vande</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Mataram</span>, have you seen the '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Jaya</span> Hey' video released by The Times group? It contains all the verses to our national anthem composed by Tagore. It's been sung by people all over the country and is total goosebumps-throat-drying-I-crying worthy. And promise, not because I have a sudden surge of patriotism in me or anything. </div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-84154212262498016132011-05-14T09:10:00.000-07:002012-08-28T23:56:58.908-07:00A Crime called Coffee'A <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">lot</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">can</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">happen</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">over</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">cup</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">coffee</span>', <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">goes</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">cliched</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">tagline</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">of</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">chain</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Coffee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">shops</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Truer</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">words</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">have</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">never</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">been</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">said</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Coffee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">is</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">crime</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">for</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">me</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">and</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">lethal</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">one</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">at</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">that</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Karma</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">plays</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">its</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">cards</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">well</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">when</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">it</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">comes</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">retribution</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">coffee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">justifies</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">that</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">perfectly</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">my</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48">case</span>. <div><br /></div><div>Most <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">people</span> I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50">know</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51">cannot</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52">function</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53">properly</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54">without</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55">their</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56">morning</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57">dose</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59">caffeine</span>. In <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60">fact</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_61">it</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_62">isn</span>'t <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_63">too</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_64">hard</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_65">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_66">state</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_67">that</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_68">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_69">levels</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_70">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_71">caffeine</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_72">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_73">body</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_74">is</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_75">inversely</span> proportional <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_76">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_77">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_78">grumpiness</span> in a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_79">person</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_80">How</span> a simple <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_81">drink</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_82">can</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_83">change</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_84">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_85">mood</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_86">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_87">people</span>, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_88">really</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_89">can</span>'t <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_90">fathom</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_91">The</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_92">seemingly</span> simple <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_93">brownish</span> liquid <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_94">manages</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_95">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_96">elevate</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_97">even</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_98">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_99">Scrooge</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_100">est</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_101">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_102">moods</span> I'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_103">ve</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_104">known</span>. Oh <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_105">well</span>, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_106">make</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_107">do</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_108">with</span> an Apple (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_109">which</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_110">according</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_111">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_112">Scientific</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_113">reports</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_114">has</span> an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_115">equivalent</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_116">amount</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_117">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_118">the</span> '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_119">waking</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_120">up</span>' <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_121">ingredient</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_122">as</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_123">cup</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_124">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_125">coffee</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_126">or</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_127">several</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_128">even</span>.) </div><div><br /></div><div>So <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_129">why</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_130">did</span> I bring in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_131">Karma</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_132">for</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_133">post</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_134">on</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_135">Coffee</span>? Fair <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_136">enough</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_137">question</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_138">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_139">be</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_140">asked</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_141">if</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_142">you</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_143">didn</span>'t <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_144">know</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_145">me</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_146">Since</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_147">childhood</span>, I'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_148">ve</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_149">had</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_150">this</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_151">urge</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_152">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_153">drink</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_154">what</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_155">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_156">grown</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_157">ups</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_158">drink</span>. After <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_159">having</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_160">fussed</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_161">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_162">fumed</span>, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_163">would</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_164">have</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_165">my</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_166">wish</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_167">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_168">my</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_169">grandfather</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_170">would</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_171">dilute</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_172">some</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_173">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_174">his</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_175">special</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_176">coffee</span>. (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_177">incidentally</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_178">at</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_179">my</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_180">grandparents</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_181">place</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_182">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_183">only</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_184">person</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_185">authorized</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_186">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_187">make</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_188">coffee</span> was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_189">my</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_190">grandfather</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_191">No</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_192">one</span> was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_193">ever</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_194">allowed</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_195">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_196">touch</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_197">his</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_198">little</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_199">coffee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_200">making</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_201">corner</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_202">And</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_203">his</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_204">coffee</span> was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_205">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_206">best</span> I'd <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_207">ever</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_208">had</span>, so <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_209">no</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_210">one</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_211">dared</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_212">infringe</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_213">upon</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_214">such</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_215">culinary</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_216">mastery</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_217">anyway</span>!). </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_218">When</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_219">no</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_220">one</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_221">would</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_222">look</span>, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_223">would</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_224">add</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_225">about</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_226">two</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_227">huge</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_228">tablespoons</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_229">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_230">decoction</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_231">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_232">my</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_233">Bournvita</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_234">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_235">sip</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_236">it</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_237">like</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_238">it</span> was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_239">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_240">usual</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_241">healthy</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_242">drink</span> I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_243">needed</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_244">to</span> live <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_245">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_246">life</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_247">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_248">that</span> ideal '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_249">kid</span>' in TV <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_250">ads</span>. I'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_251">ve</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_252">abused</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_253">coffee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_254">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_255">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_256">extent</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_257">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_258">even</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_259">adding</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_260">excess</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_261">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_262">it</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_263">this</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_264">homemade</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_265">Tiramisu</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_266">several</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_267">years</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_268">ago</span>...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_269">creating</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_270">masterpiece</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_271">that</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_272">could</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_273">cause</span> war <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_274">between</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_275">Italy</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_276">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_277">India</span>.....a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_278">more</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_279">lethal</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_280">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_281">poisonous</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_282">weapon</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_283">you</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_284">wouldn</span>'t <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_285">find</span>. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_286">Cafes</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_287">have</span> also <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_288">played</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_289">role</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_290">building</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_291">up</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_292">Karma</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_293">against</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_294">Coffee</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_295">From</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_296">trying</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_297">out</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_298">every</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_299">single</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_300">coffee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_301">shop</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_302">near</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_303">home</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_304">Bangalore</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_305">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_306">laughing</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_307">about</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_308">them</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_309">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_310">replicating</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_311">horrendous</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_312">recipes</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_313">at</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_314">home</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_315">clearly</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_316">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_317">God</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_318">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_319">Coffee</span> was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_320">not</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_321">amused</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_322">with</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_323">me</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_324">blatantly</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_325">abusing</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_326">his</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_327">gift</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_328">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_329">mankind</span>. (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_330">Why</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_331">do</span> I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_332">feel</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_333">that</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_334">Coffee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_335">has</span> a male <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_336">creator</span>? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_337">Because</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_338">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_339">what</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_340">happened</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_341">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_342">me</span>. I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_343">would</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_344">like</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_345">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_346">take</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_347">this</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_348">moment</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_349">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_350">regress</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_351">back</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_352">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_353">childhood</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_354">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_355">think</span> all <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_356">boys</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_357">are</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_358">snot</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_359">Therefore</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_360">Coffee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_361">has</span> a Male <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_362">god</span>.) </div><div><br /></div><div>So <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_363">today</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_364">as</span> I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_365">write</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_366">this</span>, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_367">can</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_368">no</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_369">longer</span> taste <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_370">another</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_371">cup</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_372">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_373">Coffee</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_374">No</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_375">longer</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_376">experiment</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_377">with</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_378">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_379">marvels</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_380">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_381">random</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_382">coffee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_383">related</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_384">desserts</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_385">No</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_386">longer</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_387">agree</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_388">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_389">meet</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_390">people</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_391">Coffee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_392">Shops</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_393">unless</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_394">they</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_395">have</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_396">more</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_397">than</span> just <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_398">coffee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_399">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_400">order</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_401">Why</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_402">you</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_403">ask</span>? </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_404">allergic</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_405">To</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_406">Coffee</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_407">When</span> I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_408">tell</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_409">people</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_410">that</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_411">they</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_412">look</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_413">at</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_414">me</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_415">incredulously</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_416">How</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_417">can</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_418">someone</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_419">be</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_420">allergic</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_421">to</span> '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_422">Coffee</span>'?? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_423">Aren</span>'t <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_424">people</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_425">allergic</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_426">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_427">Peanuts</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_428">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_429">Strawberries</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_430">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_431">seemingly</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_432">common</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_433">but</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_434">exotic</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_435">things</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_436">that</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_437">are</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_438">respected</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_439">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_440">field</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_441">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_442">allergens</span>? Pollen, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_443">even</span>? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_444">But</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_445">no</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_446">Of</span> all <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_447">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_448">allergies</span> I'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_449">ve</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_450">had</span> (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_451">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_452">believe</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_453">me</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_454">there</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_455">have</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_456">been</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_457">quite</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_458">few</span>...I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_459">went</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_460">through</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_461">phase</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_462">when</span> I was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_463">allergic</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_464">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_465">Chocolate</span>. *<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_466">shudder</span>*), I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_467">had</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_468">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_469">pick</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_470">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_471">one</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_472">ingredient</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_473">that</span> I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_474">loved</span> so <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_475">much</span>, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_476">would</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_477">twist</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_478">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_479">turn</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_480">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_481">change</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_482">its</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_483">shape</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_484">to</span> fit <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_485">into</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_486">any</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_487">comfort</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_488">food</span> I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_489">ate</span>. </div><div><br /></div><div>So I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_490">walk</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_491">into</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_492">coffee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_493">shop</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_494">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_495">order</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_496">tea</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_497">And</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_498">bury</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_499">my</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_500">face</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_501">inside</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_502">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_503">menu</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_504">until</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_505">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_506">waiter</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_507">walks</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_508">away</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_509">after</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_510">giving</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_511">his</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_512">customary</span> *Oh-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_513">my</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_514">god</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_515">she</span>'s-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_516">ordering</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_517">tea</span>-in-a-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_518">coffee</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_519">shop</span>* <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_520">look</span>. I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_521">begin</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_522">my</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_523">mornings</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_524">with</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_525">Bournvita</span> (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_526">which</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_527">if</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_528">you</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_529">have</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_530">creative</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_531">enough</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_532">imagination</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_533">could</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_534">come</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_535">very</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_536">close</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_537">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_538">resembling</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_539">cup</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_540">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_541">coffee</span>.). I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_542">make</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_543">do</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_544">with</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_545">Cocoa</span> in all <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_546">instant</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_547">vending</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_548">machines</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_549">as</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_550">people</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_551">pick</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_552">out</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_553">coffee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_554">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_555">tea</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_556">And</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_557">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_558">worst</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_559">of</span> all, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_560">Tiramisu</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_561">is</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_562">long</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_563">forgotten</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_564">dream</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_565">now</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_566">Unless</span>, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_567">can</span> manage <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_568">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_569">master</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_570">way</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_571">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_572">making</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_573">it</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_574">without</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_575">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_576">coffee</span>....<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_577">but</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_578">that</span>'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_579">ll</span> just <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_580">be</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_581">incomplete</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_582">And</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_583">don</span>'t <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_584">even</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_585">get</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_586">me</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_587">started</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_588">about</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_589">how</span> I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_590">cannot</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_591">eat</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_592">Coffee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_593">Ice</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_594">Cream</span>. </div><div><br /></div><div>I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_595">now</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_596">have</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_597">two</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_598">extremely</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_599">bleak</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_600">options</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_601">waiting</span>....<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_602">continue</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_603">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_604">be</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_605">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_606">old</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_607">lady</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_608">drinking</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_609">cocoa</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_610">as</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_611">the</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_612">cats</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_613">watch</span> her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_614">outside</span> her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_615">lonely</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_616">apartment</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_617">singing</span> 'All <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_618">by</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_619">Myself</span>' in a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_620">slurry</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_621">tone</span> (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_622">Sigh</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_623">This</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_624">technically</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_625">shouldn</span>'t <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_626">happen</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_627">but</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_628">it</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_629">fits</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_630">the</span> '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_631">bleak</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_632">option</span>' <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_633">category</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_634">brilliantly</span>). <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_635">Or</span> just <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_636">sit</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_637">out</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_638">this</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_639">allergy</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_640">spell</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_641">and</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_642">wait</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_643">for</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_644">my</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_645">auto</span>-immune <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_646">system</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_647">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_648">pick</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_649">out</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_650">something</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_651">else</span> in a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_652">couple</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_653">of</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_654">months</span> I'd <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_655">have</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_656">to</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_657">abstain</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_658">from</span>. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_659">Till</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_660">then</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_661">Coffee</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_662">my</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_663">love</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_664">you</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_665">are</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_666">but</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_667">Caffeine</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_668">induced</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_669">memory</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_670">of</span> a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_671">life</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_672">that</span>'s <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_673">behind</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_674">me</span>. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-78876986836667026542011-04-30T05:10:00.000-07:002011-05-14T09:09:18.392-07:00The Illusive EyesIllusive eyes. They peek at you from behind the bushes. They seemingly camouflage amongst the rustling leaves when you look at them. You can feel them watching over as you drink your first cup of tea in the canteen. You feel as though they laugh with you when you crack up over a joke with your friends at the '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">adda</span>'. They're always around. Sitting two rows behind you in the bus. Driving behind you as you customarily peek in the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">rear view</span> mirrors at the signal. You picture them sitting in front of a screen not unlike this one, reading your every word, feeling every emotion. <div><br /></div><div>Why are they illusive? Because they don't exist. But the trauma of one experience is good enough to make you believe that they do. The eyes gaze at you once, and you just know. They'll never be satiated with one glance. The eyes will return to torment you in nightmares, day-mares and probably year-mares even. They have the power to turn you into a paranoid <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">twitcher</span> who constantly glances over her shoulder, almost as if the eyes were to descend on this very second. </div><div><br /></div><div>*That's* the power of being stalked. Words can never probably justify the feeling, because the eyes do the talking. You haven't seen the eyes before, maybe not in a long while, but you know that they're there somewhere. Watching. </div><div><br /></div><div>But then again, maybe they're not. Maybe the stalker was content with one look and disappeared into oblivion. How would you tell, though? The paranoia that the stalker leaves behind as a remnant of his deed lurks about you constantly, enveloping you in a cold blanket of suspicion. </div><div><br /></div><div>It is a strange phenomenon, stalking. Perhaps not everyone falls in the category of those people who seek voyeuristic gratification. Maybe they're simply shy to walk up and talk. Maybe they fear, or even resent, rejection. But how can one tell the difference? Once stalked, the victim pigeonholes all peeping toms into the category of treacherous villains. It isn't easy to extricate an innocuous follower from that pigeonhole, once he has been categorized. Attempts to do so would only show a momentary lapse of caution, maybe vulnerability even. </div><div><br /></div><div>The illusive eyes fade away with time, one hopes. Maybe, just maybe, the phase is transient and the eyes find another object. Or maybe the eyes come to terms with the fact that some meetings and relationships are simply not destined to be. The Illusive Eyes that they are, the illusive eyes they'll remain. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-15727506075475770022011-04-08T06:53:00.000-07:002011-05-14T09:09:36.135-07:00The Blue Moon's GoneIt feels so gratifying to sign into this thing and click on 'New Post'. Do I have something to talk about? I don't know, really. But to be able to let the fingers flow freely on the laptop is a freedom I've finally found after a long long time. (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">F'alliteration</span> galore!) <div><br /></div><div>So what kept me busy? Lots of things. Dissertation, Birthday, Farewell, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">GloveDay</span>..impromptu sleepovers, crazy cricket matches and the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">eggjams</span> that are peeking at me from around the corner, seeping guilt into my heart as I type this.</div><div><br /></div><div>So. The big D. For all the people who don't know me but randomly stumbled across this blog because you pressed the 'next' tab on the top right corner of this page, I did a thesis on Play Therapy with Street Children. Extremely gratifying, I must tell you. Not only did it improve my Hindi by leaps and bounds, but it gave me the much needed element of childhood in a life where everyone expects me to grow older. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Hmpf</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Thankyouverymuch</span>, but I prefer being a kid, still. </div><div><br /></div><div>Speaking of older, the birthday finally arrived! Began with I-M (I promise I'll come up with a better name soon!!) and Cake-Stealer bringing me cake early in the morning! Ironic, isn't it? Cake stealer bringing me cake? But 'twas fun. And the rest of the day went off pretty fantastically too. Thank you Glove for making the Twenty Three seem Old enough (ahem, my birthday gift) and Young enough (The Balloon that you all willingly let me spank your heads with.) </div><div><br /></div><div>Speaking of Glove, we also had the Glove Day!! Imagine every conceivable <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">girly</span> thing you would've seen in a cotton-candy world Pajama Party. Now throw that out of the window. We had a celebration that was out of this world. From random badminton competitions to pretending to spit <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">paan</span> on newly painted <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Connaught</span> Place pillars on a deserted Sunday, we managed to take an ordinary day and turn it into an extraordinary memory! A <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">speshal</span> mention to Al's super-cool parents who let us party like there was no tomorrow in her house!! And <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Muttley</span> for giving us the much needed exercise. First running towards him to play with him, and then running away when he got over-excited and tried to nip your ankles. </div><div><br /></div><div>And then came the Farewell (I don't think I'm going in any particular order, but whatever) <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Naaaaice</span> it was :) '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Nuf</span> said. </div><div><br /></div><div>So Master's is officially over. I should really get cracking on the 'Oh, so you're a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Yemmay</span> now' post. Well, it's not officially over since I have the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">eggjams</span> to devour. So yes, abrupt ending to this post that was threatening to enter a nostalgic <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">blackhole</span>. </div><div><br /></div><div>Good night, Good luck, and the Moon is waning the Blue-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">ness</span>! (Uh. I think that means I'm going to be more regular in posting things on this super-colourful page.) </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-34555937546523245122011-02-16T00:13:00.000-08:002013-02-13T09:50:40.839-08:00Twenty past ThreeOkay, It's exactly twenty three days before I turn twenty three. And it is time for the customary Birthday Post!! So I've ranted about not wanting to turn old in when I <i><a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2008/02/two-whole-decades.html"><b>Turned Twenty</b></a> . </i>At <b style="font-style: italic; "><a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2009/02/two-decades-and-dozen-months.html">Twenty One</a> , </b>I wished for dreams that actually did come true...at least the practical ones! And then at <i><a href="http://vaishnaviv.blogspot.com/2010/02/score-and-two-more.html"><b>Twenty Two</b></a> , </i>I went back to ranting about my age and how I should not be legally allowed to act it. <div><br /></div><div>(Note: The title says <i>Twenty past Three </i>and not <i>Three Past twenty </i>solely because I'm only actually three years old, with twenty years of experience!) </div><div><br /></div><div>So this year, I'll celebrate my age. So what if I'm turning 23? It's been a pretty fabulous roller-coaster ride so far, I might as well celebrate the age and look forward to growing wiser! So this year, I'll tell you (<i>the two and a half people who manage to find time and read my blog), </i>twenty three fabulous things of being old! </div><div><br /></div><div>1) My book will be taken more seriously - Yes, I am writing a book (Read: A titled, nicely decorated word document that's been languishing in a secret folder for the past couple of months.) So the older I get, the likelihood of my finding out marvelous secrets about mankind and revealing them to the world increases. </div><div><br /></div><div>2) I have stilettos. Okay, so I've been shouting out to the whole wide world that I have stilettos. But that *is* a big deal, if you haven't read my turning twenty post already and not figured out that I can never walk in high heels. But now, I can. Without tripping or ripping clothes with the hypodermic needle. </div><div><br /></div><div>3) I can cuss, drive and swerve to avoid random people who've sent their brains grazing in the middle of Delhi roads. I can also hijack parking spaces, glare at others when it is my fault and use the horn to give a fire alarm an inferiority complex. While it has nothing to do with age, and more with road-rage, I've realized that people actually take me seriously and make way in awe. Or fear (since I still have the "L" board stuck on the car, nice and bright). Hm. Must. Take. Off. "L". </div><div><br /></div><div>4) I can eat alone in a cafe without feeling awkward. If you've known me from school, I used to be this really clingy person who wouldn't even visit the loo without a friend accompanying me to the two minute walk down the corridor. I just *had* to chat with someone till there and back. But now, I roam free and alone through Delhi, stopping for a bite, without feeling like <i>oh no there's no one to talk to what will I do sitting all alone here for the next five minutes. </i>That's a big deal. (especially since the last time I tried to act all world-savvy and ordered myself a caramel-mocha in a cafe, I had a violent allergic reaction to coffee and had to frantically call my dad to come pick me up. So Cafe, yes. Coffee, no.)</div><div><br /></div><div>5) I can cook. 'Nuf said. I have graduated from burning water to making Kadi Chawal and really good cheese omelettes. Next mission: Oreo Cookie Cheesecake. </div><div><br /></div><div>6) I haven't stuffed my head inside pillows out of fear during the last horror movie I watched. But then again, that was Paranormal Activity. And I was almost half asleep, and since all they did in the movie was also sleep, I didn't really understand much of the door-slamming rituals. </div><div><br /></div><div>7) I have graduated from wanting to marry Harry Potter or Ranbir Kapoor to Ted Mosby, from How I Met Your Mother. (What? Don't snicker. It *is* a big deal, ok? There was a time when I wanted to marry a certain doctor from a <i>Hindi </i>serial. I've really matured with sitcoms.) </div><div><br /></div><div>8) Bargaining! They always take you seriously if you're old and bargaining. They consider you as the worldly-wise, well traveled arty woman who knows how much she should pay for any article of purchase. It's no wonder I love going to Sarojini Nagar and Dilli Haat these days! </div><div><br /></div><div>9) I've retired from Facestalking. Yes, I've finally grown tired of Facebook. I haven't facestalked anyone since...well, yesterday, but that was only because my friend asked me to see that one picture and tell........oh well, you get the point. One entire day without facestalking is a HUGE improvement from the churlish compulsive voyeur I used to be. </div><div><br /></div><div>10) A-Rated Movies! This time around, no one questioned my age when I went to watch No One Killed Jessica. Unlike the last time when I was taken *out* of the line and asked to show my ID over ten times to prove I was over 18. For The Da Vinci Code, of all the movies (which threw A ratings out of the museum and came on national television a year later anyway.) </div><div><br /></div><div>11) Ordering weird sounding food in fancy restaurants! The servers actually think you've tasted it before and give you a look of respect. As a kid, they'd always give me a wary look thinking I'd ordered it just because I could spell it right. So, Penne Bolongaise, anyone?</div><div><br /></div><div>12) I haven't torn one single pair of chappals since 2010 January. That is a HUGE deal, dude. Of course, I've pretty much lived in sneakers and converse shoes since then...but you know, sometimes I stare and they tear. </div><div><br /></div><div>13) I don't care about the number thirteen being unlucky anymore! (Which is probably why I'm not writing down anything here for the fear it will get reversed or come perversely true or whatever.) </div><div><br /></div><div>14) I'm addicted to Green Tea! I've graduated from the bournvita-fetish to better brewed, healthier and savvier options like Green Tea. (Uh, also because I'm allergic to coffee so I didn't have much choice.) </div><div><br /></div><div>15) I can *finally* cut a lemon/orange/tomato the right way. (If you're wondering why that should be recorded here, why don't you go try cutting them and figure out which side you're supposed to cut so the maximum juice can be retained. Hah. Mortals.) </div><div><br /></div><div>16) I can create scenes! Recently, this little girl tried to pickpocket me in the bus...not only did I catch her hand inside my bag, I even yelled at her mother loud enough to send them both scampering out of the bus. (and then felt guilty for days after because I had stopped the 'livelihood' of a young child by preventing her from stealing all my money and cards. Oh dear.)</div><div><br /></div><div>17) What number are we on? How many more do I have to go? Is my memory already dwindling? Oh...next time I'll remember to forget incident 16. </div><div><br /></div><div>18) Parents trust me with their babies! Okay, this has been happening since last summer, because I work with little kids anyway. But not only do parents *not* mind me carrying and playing with their kids, the older ones actually call me "doctor"... (well, that was after I put my foot down and refused to be addressed as 'nurse', 'sister' and 'behenji'.) :D </div><div><br /></div><div>19) Alcohol doesn't affect me as much as it does other people! BIG deal about being old, I tell you. (Although, if I had tried it earlier, I would've still found this out.) But still, being tolerant to vodka gives me a strange power to watch others dwindling like silly-tunns around me and watching them wisely. </div><div><br /></div><div>20) Yes, I've tried Alcohol. (If you're still gasping at 19 and wondering where that little kid who irritatingly resembled that other little kid from Kuch Kuch Hota Hai went.) And while it is something that I'm not exactly enamoured with (because it has, like *no* effect on me, dude.), I will still stick to my endless supply of Aerated water to keep me high. (I think my makers up in heaven got a lil bit confused and cross-wired my addiction connections.) Oh, and yes. My parents know. No room for blackmail. </div><div><br /></div><div>21) I can, in fact, live by myself and not starve, burn the house, flood it, break things or, you know <i>sell</i> it accidentally. It's not like I've done these things before, but now the grown-ups trust me not to do it. </div><div><br /></div><div>22) I can message fast! Almost as fast as I can type (which is <i>fast</i> dude, so much so that I ditched the idea of writing all this in my diary and put it up here instead, because I'd save time.) That's a big improvement, coming from someone who doesn't know, or really care, where her phone is half the time. </div><div><br /></div><div>and finally....</div><div><br /></div><div>23) It's good to be old because I'm ok with growing old! After attaining the wise age of 23, I will have <i>post</i> graduated. So move over, Beeyay Vaishnavi, Hello Yemmay, Vaishnavi! (ok. I'll keep this one in the sidelines until <i>after </i> I'm done with my dissertation, you know. Just in case.) </div><div><br /></div><div>So here are twenty three reasons why I think it's cool I'm twenty three! *Finally* an attitude change about my age! </div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-278139665060082849.post-31608495691465406732011-01-28T23:53:00.001-08:002011-05-14T09:10:11.456-07:00The Parade EscapadeFor almost twenty years, every 26<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> January, even before the sun would rise, I would wake up with a zeal that would miraculously disappear on other mornings. I would run downstairs and switch on the television to watch the Republic Day Parade. My favorite bit would be when the cameras were idly capturing the filling enclosures....as patriotic songs would be played in the background. This would begin at least an hour before the parade, and I'd love watching that aerial view of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Rajpath</span>, India Gate and little little people in colourful clothing walking around. <div><br /></div><div>This year, I got to be one of the little little people with colourful clothing. To say that it was just an 'experience' would do tremendous injustice to our nation's might. What unfolded before me in three hours encapsulated ten years' of patriotic movies like Rang Day <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Basanti</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Lagaan</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Swades</span>. Watching one brigade march past after another made me miss sports day (almost). As each tableau rolled out it's culture carpet in front of the crowds, my enthusiasm would soar higher like a kite on harvest winds. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Ok</span>. Enough with the similes. Everyone must watch the parade live at least once in their lives. (Well, not everyone, because the crowds got so chaotic this year that half the Glove got separated from us.) But there's just something else about watching a Parade. Waving at the helicopters and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">aircrafts</span> zooming above, waving at the bravery award winning kids, clapping extra hard for the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Karnataka</span> Tableau (which was beautiful, by the way), trying to catch a glimpse of the country's leaders (which wasn't too hard actually, considering our Prime Minister wore a bright blue turban.).</div><div><br /></div><div>But the best bit was the National Anthem. I know we've all squirmed and fidgeted when we sang it in the school assembly. But when some of the best bands play it in front of you, accompanied with the 21 gun salute, it transports you to a different world. You begin to understand the fervour of freedom fighters. You begin to see your nation's might in a different light. As each gun salute goes off, the ground beneath your feet vibrates, saluting the nation by itself. </div><div><br /></div><div>Okay, so maybe I overdosed on Rang De <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Basanti</span> before going to watch the parade. But it really was a brilliant experience. There were many non-patriotic highlights of the day as well. </div><div><br /></div><div>1) Leaving your cell phone behind can be oddly liberating. For almost eight hours, it was like leaving a chain behind and exploring the world uninhibited. And this is coming from me, someone who isn't all that addicted to the phone and carelessly leaves it all over the house, always missing calls and messages. </div><div><br /></div><div>2) Getting separated from a friends' group. The Glove ended up getting split due to different autos, different routes to India Gate interspersed with half of Delhi's population. So three of us made it to the VIP enclosure and bagged enviable seats, while the other three got left behind. :( It sort of makes you realize how important a big group is. But the one unifying factor with both halves was that we experienced two different sides of Delhi. I know I speak for the entire Glove when I say that Delhi is absolutely enchanting in solitude. Quiet, empty roads sprinkled with little flowers and wide, shady footpaths uninhabited by vendors is like walking into the 1900s all over again. </div><div><br /></div><div>There are so many many more things that I'd love to record, but they keep fleeting in and out of the memory. Long story short, the parade was a fabulous experience, and the self discovery of a patriotic streak that I thought only manifested when I watched movies. </div><div><br /></div><div>Hm. Other news. I attended a national Deaf-Blindness conference last week as well. Have you seen <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kk02qPlnS2E">The Silent National Anthem</a> ? It sums up the spirit of all the people in the conference. Of course, a good tip for the future is to carry tissues and surreptitiously wipe away tears brought out by a moving performance. When the organizers thanked me for covering the conference, the entire audience turned to find a teary eyed girl muffling sobs and waving feebly. (In my defense, the children who had just performed were beautiful, and I had no idea they would introduce me to the entire audience as their media representative.) </div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, and Delhi had an earthquake last week as well. Not exactly an <i>earthquake, </i>since the epicentre was south-western Pakistan...but the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">tremours</span> were felt. And it was a moment of further self discovery for me. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am pathetic during Catastrophes. <i>Absolutely Pathetic</i>. </div><div><br /></div><div>So the tremors began and woke everybody up. The buildings from across even began evacuating. I didn't feel diddly squat. Then I was woken up with a very rushed "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Vaishnavi</span>!! You have to get up! There's an Earthquake." </div><div><br /></div><div>To which I respond, "So?" </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, the earthquake didn't do any major damage, and I went back to my not-so-warm covers only to realize the magnitude of what <i>could have happened</i>. I didn't get sleep forever after that, starting at every little annoying pigeon noises. (at one point, I even thought the walls were cracking.) </div><div><br /></div><div>I think after graduation, I will write scripts for melodramas. </div>Vaishnavihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12502787869849276796noreply@blogger.com5