Gentle Whispers

I've been toying with the idea of closing down this blog off late and the more I think about it, the more I like it. I love my blog. My very first one, all mine, bright, shiny. It got me raw and unknowing and it slowly grew on me as did the whole blogging shebang, but the lack of anonymity has begun getting to me. A lot of people I know seem to be reading and half the things I want to blog about, I can't. I often find myself staring at the blank screen, mulling over how I should disguise the people and incidents I am talking about, all of it leading to me feeling very stifled, at which point I just shrug my shoulders and give up. Which might perhaps explain the paucity in posts. Also, almost all the google searches for my name seem to lead here and I don't think it's a very good idea to have my thoughts and feelings laid out here for people who are actually googling me in the first place ! A new blog, a new identity, a new name have been slowly pulling me towards them.

It's been an interesting sort of week. My mum and dad were both out of town on separate conferences and since my brother is home on leave, it's just been him and me. Surprisingly there hasn't been any bloodshed. An achievement by our standards. My dad And as my mother told me about a million times before I left, I am the Woman of the house while she isn't here. Whatever that means. Today however, I'm planning on going for Celebrate Bandra and it should be fun with theatre and dance and art and literature. And if it isn't, well then I'll just make it fun. :D Also, I have my eye on a new template for the upcoming festive season, but it is a little bit too early, so you can expect a new look to my blog sometime soon. I'm keeping my mind open however and if I come across a better one, I'd be all over it. P.S: Anyone who points out the utter pointlessness of this post is here forth banned from the blog. You have been warned.

I haven't been blogging as much as I'd like to lately. There have been ideas, mental jottings, but by the time I sit down in front of the computer, I go entirely blank and I'm struggling for words. Not for this however, Titaxy very generously conferred on me the Humane award almost two weeks ago. I know several people who'd doubt the relevance of this award being given to me, starting with my brother, but I am going to ignore him and to attempt to accept this one gracefully and graciously. Even though I'm not entirely sure that it's not a hint that I'm not humane enough. Also, the wonderful girl just got married and after reading about it, I have now decided that I want a wedding exactly like hers. With warmth, affection, love and laughter. Congratulations again! Anyhoo, back to the original purpose of this post, my Humane award, Now please excuse me while I swig champagne by the bucket load and shout it to the world, all the while, figuring whom I should ...

"I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day." -Frank Sinatra Amen.

Continuing in my trend of stealing tags, I've whacked this one off Moo , because it just looked like so much fun. So anyway, this is tag is called the ABC tag and because you definitely don't know enough about me already. Here goes: 1) A – Available/Single? Single, the available depends on who wants to know 2) B – Best friend? I don't think I have one best friend. I have several friends who are very close to me. 3) C – Cake or Pie? Tough choice, but I think I'd have to go for the cake especially if it's blueberry cheesecake. 4) D – Drink of choice? Gin and tonic/lemonade. Bacardi and coke, Wine. Contrary to what might come across, I am NOT an alcoholic. 5) E – Essential item you use every day? Bag, cellphone and computer 6) F – Favorite colour? Blue in all its shades, White, black and I have a certain fondness for purple. 7) G – Gummy Bears Or Worms? Worms. They're delish 8) H – Hometown? Technically Goa and Mangalore. In my heart, Mumbai 9) I – Indulgence? Choc...

They have everything for you men to enjoy, You can hang out with all the boys ... So true. Well except for the part where they call us men, but we shall just let that slide, shall we? As you read this, I'm in the outstation YMCA camp . Merrily living it up at a National Youth Camp for youth from the ages of 18 to 30 across India. I've quietly snuck off from work. This will be my second YMCA camp in three years. The first one was in Yellagiri, a little hill station near Chennai and this one is near Pune. I've been looking forward to this camp ever since I heard about it approximately four months ago. So please pray that I'm having a great time as I hope I am, with swimming, rock climbing, rappelling, rifle shooting, treasure hunts and campfires. See you all on the other side.

One of my favourite places in Bombay to chill with my friends, is my friend PU's terrace in Andheri. Located in one of the quiet by lanes of Lokhandwala, it's the perfect place to just be. I love going up there on starry summer nights with a cool breeze and three people without whom life would be incomplete. Lying back, talking, gossiping, sharing secrets, drinking, stuffing ourselves with french fries from McDonald's, it's a place that only holds the best of memories for me. It's magical being there and watching planes fly by. Trying to figure out where they're going, the routes they're taking, making up elaborate stories about the people within. All the while content and listening to soft giggles and whispers. Chuckles and swear words. Drawing comfort from the silence, knowing that we don't need words to communicate. Sharing every little thought I've had. The best and the worst without fear of judgment. Bad jokes, good conversation and terrible leg...

So anyone who knows me, knows what a huge sports fan I am. I watch them all, soccer, basketball, cricket, tennis, Formula One. Everything. So as I've said before, I've been watching a lot of soccer . I check Goal.com every two hours to see what the latest happenings in the footballing world are. And a million other footballing websites. I try to keep my weekends clear so that I can watch as much of the Premier League as I can. I'm signing petitions that ask for more of the La Liga to be broadcast on Indian television. Anyway, I'm guessing you've got the picture? So from the last few years, I've been a neutral. I watched several teams and I was happy. But the more football I watched, the more I felt myself get drawn towards one team. Liverpool FC to be precise. They're my team in a sense that none other never was. Their underdog reputation, their lack of supporters, in India I mean, the fact that people never take them or their title challenges se...

I've always thought of myself as a gregarious, outgoing, friendly person. I've never had a problem talking to people. Making conversation or just breaking the ice and I've always had a lot of friends . But lately I seem to find myself in a slump. I just can't go up there and talk to people and in the last year, I can count the number of new friends I've made on one hand and as you can guess, I'm none too happy with myself. I've had friends through my college and school years and now moving out of my comfort zone is becoming too hard for me. I have these friends whom I know super well and whom I know I can blindly fall back on without worrying about a thing. They're my support system. They have my back and I know I have nothing to worry about. With new friends I'll have to begin all over again. From point A. And it just seems like too much effort. Plus, people at work seem to have their own agendas and I always get the impression that with my way of ...

So someone tagged me to in of these notes thingies on Facebook, in what was basically a list of The Things To Do Before I Die and though it said to only list 30 things, in my usual overboard, over-enthusiastic style, I've listed forty and I figured I might as well share them with you guys here. So here it is, The Things I want to do before I die :- 1) Buy a round-the-world air ticket and a rucksack, and run away and make sure I set foot on each of the seven continents 2) Visit all the seven wonders of the World.. Modern, Ancient, Natural 3) Watch Roger Federer play in a Wimbledon final 4) Be published in the New Yorker or the Economist 5) Drink beer at Oktoberfest in Munich 6) Learn to play a musical instrument with some degree of skill 7) Fly a plane 8) Learn to scuba dive, skydive and bungee jump and go up in a hot air ballooon 9) Go on a wild-life safari across the African grasslands. 10) Watch a football game between Argentina and Brazil, an El Classico b...

So, as per my usual tag stealing ways, I've stolen this one from Just call me A , because it seemed like so much fun. And I rather wanted to see how much of a devil I really am. Also, I don't tag any of you, whoever wants to take up this tag feel absolutely free to do so. * Asked someone to marry you? Innocent * Ever kissed someone of the same sex? Guilty . Ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies * Danced on a table in a bar? Innocent . I've always wanted to though. * Ever told a lie? Guilty . Many times over. * Had feelings for someone whom you can’t have back? Guilty . I'm a glutton for punishment * Kissed a picture? Guilty .Rahul Dravid, Fernando Torres, David Villa, Roger Federer and Im not mentioning anymore names. * Slept in until 5 PM? Innocent . The latest I've ever woken up has been 3 pm. * Fallen asleep at work/school? Guilty. * Held a snake? Innocent. Just because I haven't had the opportunity. Snakes are such beautiful creatures. * ...

I wasn't in the best of moods , these last few weeks and even getting out of bed was proving to be too much of a task. Until the rapid turnaround happened, and while I'm still going off into my black moods, I'm trying to keep from letting them engulf me and swallow me whole. But then I that despite the several setbacks I've had, I've realised the Universe is not out to get me. And so I can remind myself of them every time I get low and depressed, I'm making a list. Besides, I love making long list of things to do. Tis's so much fun. 1) I have a job. Much as I don't enjoy it. At least I have one with a fairly decent pay at a time when people are losing their jobs and working for pittances. 2) I have wonderful friends, who care about me. Who worry when I'm not happy and go out of their way to make sure I'm okay and I'm smiling. They're my rainbows on dark, gloomy days. 3) This blog. As long as I have this blog, I think I'll be okay. ...

If you've been reading me for a bit, you probably will have realised that my last few posts haven't exactly been all happiness and light. They've been dark, morbid and downright depressing and I've been gloomy and depressed for a long time too. Until today that is; I was just reading my blog and looking back over the last few conversations I've had with friends and I realised what a sad, sad person I've become. I'm turning into the kind of person I've always hated. Whiny, pessimistic and a wet blanket. And it's such a departure from my usual happy-go-lucky, optimistic, easy-going, up-for-anything self. I've lost all sense of spontaneity. I'm not as laid back as I once was. I take offence at the tiniest of offences. I get anxious over little things. I'm quick to lose my temper and slow to make amends. And I've never been that way ever before. So as of today, I've vowed to be much happier and try to come out of this terrible place....

I haven't been feeling quite myself lately. I haven't been very happy both personally and professionally. It's like a piece of me has been missing. I've been going through the motions of daily life mechanically feeling like it's not me, but someone else who's going through everything. Also, the thought of quitting journalism has been coming to my mind a lot lately. And I haven't actually acknowledged it until now. What has been the most indicative of my distaste of anything to do with journalism has been the fact that I've been quite disinclined to even blog. And that is something that's never happened before. I know journalism doesn't have much to do with blogging, but for me, the happier I've been the more I've wanted to blog and I haven't felt like blogging in months now. And all the last few posts you've seen have been me pushing myself to write, just because I hate seeing this blog dead. Personally is a whole other issue, on...

This blog came into being as a lark. I had no specific ideas and no precise interest. Just plain old curiosity to see what the big deal about blogging was. I wasn't too sure of how long I'd stick to it and how many times I'd post. And while I haven't written as much as I'd like to, I've done fairly well. A lot of the time I haven't been able to do it properly, and in such situations I've given up rather than rush into it and force myself. It's been exactly two years to the day since I published my first post on this blog and what a journey it's been. When I reached that first year , I didn't take it too seriously, figuring I'd gotten there without much effort. But the second year around, I've put a lot more into it. I've wanted a prettier blog. I've changed templates. I've dusted and polished it and sent it out all new and shining. It's mine and I feel fiercely protective it. But more than that, this blog has given me ...

... you know my restlessness. I have to have change around me constantly. I can't sit still for more than half a hour and I absolutely crave action (get your mind out of the gutter). So anyway, I had nothing better to do and I decided I need a new template. And so voila, I now have a new template. I alternated between about 10-15 templates. Before I settled on one. And while it looked pretty in the sample. It was much too pink for me. And for a girl, who has just one pink shirt in her entire wardrobe, something had to go. And there you have it, it has some flowers. It's my favourite blue and it's pretty without being too girly. Creating a new blogroll with about 68 people on it was quite the pain in the you-know-what though, and is probably the only thing keeping me from changing my template much more often. I hope these flowers bring you a little cheer in the midst of the gloom of the rains.

This tag has been languishing in my drafts for more than a year now and I've finally been able to complete it and put it out here. Yay me! P.S This tag comes to me by the way of Moo . Opening Credits : Dear Prudence - The Beatles Waking up: I'm alive - Celine Dion Average Day : The Beauty of Grey - Live First Date : Good Vibrations - Beach Boys Falling in love : The way you make me feel - Michael Jackson/ Beautiful in my eyes - Joshua Kadison Love scene : Take my breath away - Berlin Fight scene : Highway to the Danger Zone- Kenny Loggins Breaking Up : You've lost that loving feeling - Righteous Brothers/ Hit the road Jack - Ray Charles Getting back together : Heaven - Bryan Adams Secret Love : Follow me - Uncle Kracker Life's okay : Fields of Gold - Sting Mental Breakdown : Freefallin - Tom Petty Driving : Wild Thing - Jimi Hendrix Learning a lesson : Both sides now - Joni Mitchell Deep thought : Blowing in the wind - Bob Dylan Flashback : Time of your life - Greenda...

'If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can be dealt with' Michael Jackson The King of Pop is no more. My day began with the news of his death via sms and I jumped out of bed to watch the news and see if it was really true. All that I felt for Michael when he was ridiculed the world over was pity. Pity that such a great star was reduced to this. To being called Wacko Jacko and a pedophile. So much so that he left the US to settle in Bahrain. How can you feel hatred towards someone who never wants to grow up. Who spoke of incessant rehearsals, whippings and name-calling as a child. Who cried from loneliness and vomited every time he saw his father. Who was made to perform from the age of five. One night while he was asleep, his father climbed into his room through the bedroom window. Wearing a fright mask, he entered the room screaming and shouting, wanting to teach his children not to lea...

One of my biggest fears about India is how intolerant as people we are becoming. We refuse to accept contrary viewpoints. their opinions and their right to choose, another person's right to do as they wish and their freedom to say what they want and dress as it pleases them. I came across this article from Lost on the street and I can't even begin explaining how ridiculous I find the whole article. And as a journalist having written that article, someone I'd expect to be mature and objective, it comes as even more of a shock. How much further is this from accusing Muslims of cheering for Pakistan during a match and bursting crackers when Pakistan wins? What if Pakistan played better and deserved to win? What if Pakistan had the better team? What if I like the Pakistani style of play much better than the Indian one? Take the 2007 T20 World Cup for instance, if Pakistan had won, I for one would have stood up and applauded because they played well and deserved to win. And i...

I was tagged for this by the Mad Momma approximately eight months and my lazy-ass ways have gotten around to me doing it only now. Yes, I know I suck. Gracefully ignoring all the snickering, I shall get to the purpose of the tag. A lot of people I know love the monsoon. They love the rain and the smell of the earth after the first rain. They love the idea of hot pakoras and a steaming cup of tea watching the rain lash against the windows and lightening light up the sky. For me, on the other hand, the monsoon has never been one of my favourites. Sure, I love the smell of the earth and the hot pakoras minus the tea. Long walks in the rain. But there's so much about the monsoon that I dislike. The dirt that's everywhere. In the trains, in the buses. The flies, the dirty rivulets of water. But what is perhaps my major gripe with the monsoon is how depressed it makes me feel. Nothing gets me down as much as looking out of the window and seeing a darkened sky, rain pouring down, ...

where angels fear to tread... I've heard that proverb about a hundred times and it failed to sink in. Until recently that is. A friend of mine has been dating somebody for quite a while now and while we haven't had much of an interaction, I've always thought of her boyfriend and me getting on qite well with quite a few things in common. I don't think so anymore. Especially not after a recent night, when his first words on seeing me there blatantly made me feel like an outsider. He completely ignored me. Replied to my attempts at conversation with one word answers and just generally excluding me out of everything. And I am upset. More than most people think. I love my friend very much and she's one of my favourite people in the world. But a boyfriend who behaves this way always throws a spanner in the works. We'll see how it goes.

Have you ever wanted anything so much that it's been all you could ever think about? As much as you try to force it out of your mind, it keeps popping back up and preying on you at the oddest of moments. During a random conversation, while reading a book or traveling. You keep imagining about how beyond amazing it would be, if it actually happened, while conveniently blocking out the idea of failure. That's what I've been going through for the past couple of weeks. I've been anxious, nervous and a touch desperate. Praying and hoping and crossing my fingers and making promises to God. And it's been a while since I've been able to think about anything else. I've been in living in limbo lately. Just floating through life, waiting to know what will happen. What really scares me however is that I want this so much and I keep imagining it happening and I'm afraid I might jinx it. That it will never happen to me. And that of all the people it could happen, why ...

I'm doing a tag after a while, courtesy of Moo and now since you obviously don't know enough about me already, I'm going to enlighten you some more. 1) When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought? Are those lines under my eyes? 2)How much cash do you have in your wallet right now? Approximately 100 bucks, I just withdraw money as and when I need it. 3) What’s a word that rhymes with DOOR? Sore, More, Lore, Fore, Core, Roar, Tore, Pore, Gore, Whore, Wore, Yore, Bore (Does anyone see the point of this question?) 4) Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone? Some telemarketer convincing me to subscribe for their DVD rental service. As if! 5) What is your favorite ring tone on your phone? Time of your Life by Greenday 6)What are you wearing right now? A spiffy white kurta and jeans (I'm at work *Ssshhh*) 7)Do you label yourself? Course, and I'm extremely expensive too. 8) Name the brand of the shoes you...

I am now officially scraping the bottom of the barrel for ideas about posts, and this is what it has resulted in. You have been duly warned however, so read on at your own peril. You know how it is when your at a party or at a sleepover and it's around four am in the morning and things are starting to quiet down, with people drifting off to sleep. And you know how there's always one incessantly loud person, who refuses to go sleep, who's batteries haven't wound down yet, the one who annoys the heck outta everybody. That's me. I'm that loud annoying person. The later it gets and the sleeper everybody else gets, the more energetic I get. And I refuse to let people go to sleep. Well, unless I'm indulging in some activities of my own, which I refuse to elaborate on considering this is a family blog and being stoned to death is not my idea of the best way to meet my Maker. Anyway, I want them to do something. Dance, talk, sing. SOMETHING!! The last party I was at...

seeing her name on my phone still causes a fresh rush of pain.

I've always loved Sundays. During school, it was the one day of a week when my parents were at home. We'd get a chance to do things around the house. Stocking up for the week ahead. Having a special family lunch. A nap after that and visiting family and friends in the evening. I loved Sundays even more when I started work. Sunday was MY day off. When I could relax and do absolutely anything I wanted to do. Potter around the house, talk on the phone, catch up on all my television viewing and read my books at leisure. But it's not so anymore. Ever since I switched jobs. I now work weekends and take my offs on Monday. And it sucks. It throws everything out of schedule. When I'm free to do absolutely anything I want to do, everybody else is going to work. On the brighter side, I don't have Monday blues anymore. I just hate Tuesdays now.

This post has been simmering in my mind for a while. Since Christmas to be precise. But better late than never I always say. Remember the friends I talked about here? We've been, for as long as I can remember, the eight of us. KD, RM, LS, AP, LL, NR, NE and me, with a few people coming and going over the years and friends outside our extremely tight circle. Four guys and four girls. I shifted out of my old colony and we rarely met, what with college, exams, sports, trips et all. We normally met on birthdays, Easter, Christmas, New Year, family functions, with a few people missing sometimes. But no matter how often we met or not at all, the bond was always there, strong and holding fast. Binding us together. We always knew we could call each other at any time of the night and know they'd be there for us in a second and that's the way it stayed. Christmas Eve especially was a special special night. No matter, what else we might have missed, Christmas Eve was something we were...

There are days when I hate my job. Today is not one of those days. Today I absolutely cannot stand my job. I'm very irritated, grumpy, frustrated, irascible and whiny. And I want to pick up my chair and smash it on my computer. Capish? I'm so irritated in fact, that the next person who speaks to me is probably going to get his head bitten off and I'm quite relishing the idea. The best part. It's 9:30 pm IST and I still have four hours to go. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Do you know what else I hate? The goddamn general elections. That's what. Thank god it's bloody over.

I have a new template in case you didn't notice. And yes, I know it's been only a month since I changed the old one. But I can't stick with one thing for too long. And I fell in love with this template the minute I saw it. It's pretty. And I think it goes beautifully with my blog. And I like it. And well, I don't think I really need to say anything else, do I? It does have a few kinks though. So bear with me while I iron them out. But I am proud of the fact that I've managed to blog roll almost all the blogs I read which is no mean feat. Unlike last time, where I lost half the blogs when I changed templates. So anyway, please drop a line and tell me what you think of the new template. Pretty please with a cherry on top.

It's been a busy three weeks for me. The barely having time to breathe kinda days which rush by and leave you exhilarated and happy. I went for a camping trip recently. A five day long trip. To a place near Lonavla. The YMCA has a campsite there called Camp Lakeside. And it is hands down, one of the most brilliant places places you could ever hope to go too. It has rock climbing, rappelling, a 200 feet deep lake to swim in, rifle-shooting and a lot of games and fun. Days started at 6 am and ended at 12 in the night for us counselors. Exhausting, at times frustrating days. Would I do it again? You betcha' ass I would. It helped me rediscover my love for the outdoors. And for that I'll be forever grateful.

Did anyone watch Barcelona versus Real Madrid in the 'El Classico' match of the year? Wasn't Barcelona absolutely marvellous? Xavi, Iniesta, Thierry Henry, Messi. All so so brilliant. Especially the Spanish players. I want to adopt them all. Sigh.

That's what I would taste like to a cannibal. Broiled fish! Hmph. Created by Recipe Star

Does anyone think Cyrus Broacha is one of the most annoying people on the planet? I do. He was just about tolebearable on MTV, but I can't bear him even an iota on CNN-IBN. He goes out of his way to irritate the hell out of you and it's not even funny. But I'd have to say, he's the lesser evil compared to Sajid Khan. He makes me want to rip my arm off just so that I'd have something to throw at him. Who annoys you?

I hate it when I find hair in my food. The only thing even more disgusting than that is finding a cockroach in your food. And that's exactly what happened yesterday. I found a hair in my Malaysian Chilli Noodles. Anyway, to start at the beginning, I went out for lunch to the FiveSpice restaraunt in Colaba with a bunch of people, none of whom I know too well.. It's one of my favourite restaraunts in Mumbai. Not too expensive. Generous portions and delectable desserts. But I doubt I'll be going back to the branch in Colaba after the way they behaved when I pointed out the hair on the food. First off, he tells me, "There's nothing I can, you guys are almost done." Thereby insinuating that I'd done it just to get the damn thing for free. At which point I said, "I don't care whether I'm almost done. There's a hair in my food, for crying out loud." To which, and I don't know how the hell this guy got to be manager, responds with "W...

I am now totally football obsessed. I watch football day and night these days. Take yesterday for instance, I watched Liverpool play Hull City, Chelsea play West Ham, Manchester United play Tottenham and Valencia play Barcelona in the La Liga, which meant I went to sleep at 4 in the morning. Now that's a lot, even by my normal sports fanatic standards. The bad part though, only Liverpool went exactly the way I wanted it to. Chelsea beat West Ham, ManU came back to beat Tottenham from two down to win 5-2. All thanks to an absolutely horrible penalty given by the referee. Barcelona leveled with Valencia too, courtesy of a terrible mistake by the keeper. Poor David Villa. P.S: I'm a Liverpool girl. They're where it's at. Also, while I'm fairly neutral to Manchester and Arsenal. I canNOT stand Chelsea. Not even a teeny tiny, minuscule little bit.

I've been supremely busy of late, with absolutely no energy to do anything other than what has been absolutely required of me, or I have not been forced into doing with a gun held to my head. To know why, refer to this post below this one. And I've been feeling very badly about the fact that I was given not one, but two awards by Homecooked , which I was feeling too lazy to acknowledge and pass on to the rest of you. But I'm feeling nice now, and in a mood, where I can barely keep my eyes open and do some actual work that I get paid for. So I'm going to just accept the awards while my boss thinks I'm being oh so diligent and doing major work, while I'm actually blogging. (*Raise your hand if you've done this before*). The tag I'll deal with later when I'm at home and Youtube isn't blocked. So anyway, the first one is the very lovely Friends one. And now out of the kindness of my heart I'm going to pass it on to a) Moo - Because she IS a frien...

Screw everything I said earlier. I take it back. It's so bad, I even contemplated deleting the damn post. I'm going over to the dark side again. The Moo side of things. It's a much better funner side and it doesn't involve wanting to bang heads together at 15 minute intervals. What can I say, five days of looking after 40 screaming, loud kids from the ages of six to thirteen at a YMCA day camp is a pain in the you-know-what, not to mention exhausting, from 9 to 5 will do that to you. Ensuring they're all fed, watered, occupied, enjoying themselves, taking part in everything and not pushing and pulling each other, makes you by the end of the day, want you to pull your hair out and either kill them or kill yourself. I'm NEVER having kids. Never, never never........... *Runs off screaming into the distance*

God bless who ever came up with the idea of scheduled posting. It helps me balance out days when I have tons of blogging ideas as well as the urge to blog with days when I have none at all. *Whistles merrily*

Vikram Seth has always been one of my favourite writers. I loved A Suitable Boy and From Heaven's Tale has filled me with a longing to experience Tibet. Mappings especially was beautiful, with the classical learning, wit and lyrical charm of Vikram Seth. Who couldn't love The Tale of Melon City and From Mount Tamalpais or The Walkers and Moonless Night. Take Sit from All you who sleep tonight for example Sit, drink your coffee here; your work can wait awhile. You're twenty-six, and still have some life ahead. No need for wit; just talk vacuities, and I'll Reciprocate in kind, or laugh at you instead. The world is too opaque, distressing and profound. This twenty minutes' rendezvous will make my day: To sit here in the sun, with grackles all around, Staring with beady eyes, and you two feet away. But that's not what this post is about. This post is about that little hit meter on the right hand side of my page, that registers above 10,000 hits and yes I know i...

I've been feeling unusually melancholy of late. I've been very down on myself, thinking I'm not good enough and maybe that's why nothing right ever happens with me. In short, being my typical melodramatic self. So anyway, I was terribly low yesterday and I was just talking to a friend while I got ready to go to work. Complaining and pretty much whining non-stop all throughout until I had to leave. So I picked up my bag, put on my shoes, did a final check to make sure the electricity and gas were switched off and left, only to find my friend waiting at my building gate with his precious Ipod in hand, insisting that I take it to work as I needed to listen to some music to feel at peace saying something about music soothing the wild beast and all that. And me being me, I took the Ipod with really bad grace, grumbled about how my bag was already heavy enough and got into the cab, only to switch on the Ipod and hear Joey McIntyre singing 'Stay the Same'. And my heart...

I don't know if you've been following the IPL religiously. I haven't. I'd much rather watch some football. What I am following regularly now is a blog that's allegedly by a Kolkata Knight Riders insider. How far it's true? I don't really know, but it's fun and rather sarcastic and a good read for when you have nothing better to do, with the latest being him referring to Bublee and Babli, which allegedly refers to Brett Lee and Preity Zinta apparently as having an affair. Anyway the link is HERE . And to make things easier for you, some of the main characters as gleaned from comments left on the Fake IPL Player's posts. Kishen Kanhaiya is Ravi Shastri Appam Chuthiya is Sreesanth Pedophile priest is Adam Gilchrist Kaan Moolo is Ajit Agarkar Big Sister is Shilpa Shetty Prince of Patiala is Yuvraj Singh Lord Almighty is Sourav Ganguly Babli is Preity Zinta Calypso King is Chris Gayle Vinnie Dildo is Shah Rukh Khan Havai Chapal is Greg Chappel Junta Torme...

In case your wondering, about the spate of posts, two of them were languishing in my drafts, Far far away and Forever and I've been in a blogging mood. So I finished them off and put them up and as I go through this draft posting mood, you can expect a lot more posts. It makes me feel a teeny tiny bit better about the beginning of the year when i hardly ever posted.

I've been burning with rage all day long. Why? I think this pretty much says it all. We've, all at least most of the people I know, experienced corporal punishment in school. Even if it was just a rap on the knuckles with a ruler or a slightly stinging slap. Meant to hurt your pride more. But this is a whole other matter. What kind of a teacher bangs a 11-year-old child's head on the table, makes her stand out in the sun all day long, with BRICKS on her shoulders, for crying out loud, until she vomits and is unconscious. What kind of heartless, unfeeling sadistic type of person do you have to be? Was not knowing her alphabets that much of a sin that she had to die for it? And why did no one else step in, not any other teacher, not the principal, not the peons or ayahs in the school. Why was it that it was only the girl's sister who noticed her unconscious. To top it all, the school's argument is that she was weak. By which basis, you would think that they've pu...

I've been looking for forever, from well, forever. I've hunted high and low, here and there. Everywhere. I've picked up every rock, shaken every tree. I've behaved abominably when I haven't found it and deluded myself into thinking that I have found it at times. Only to realise that whatever it was, it wasn't forever. It was bits and pieces. Fragments. And my heart ached a little bit every time. But now I know better. I'm going to wait for forever and at the same time not wait. Forever will come to me when I least expect it. When I'm ready for it. And not a minute too soon. When I'm able to love, as much for its flaws as for its beauty. For its talents as for its failings. It will come not reeking of perfection, but of warmth and comfort and knowing we fit together. It will blossom under long walks in the rain, sparkle over strawberry iced teas and blueberry cheesecakes. Grin lopsidedly over Kiwi Martinis and Scotch on the rocks. Be positive through ...

I'm in office right now. Waiting for the pages to come in so that I can upload them on to the website. And then I can leave. It's quiet today here, with the TVs switched off, half the people gone and the office strangely quiet for what is actually dead line time. My mind on the other hand is far away. In Kashmir and Ladakh. I remember Yusmarg valley and the drive to get there. How I wanted to get off the bus and walk there among the grassy meadows, dotted with sheep and little log cabins, ringed by dense pine forests with awe-inspiring snow capped mountains towering behind. I remember the way my heart sang when we walked into Yusmarg and witnessed the river gurgling by, singing a merry little song. Of panting up one crest in the meadow with wild ponies cantering around and running crazily down the other side only to be ankle deep in a pool of mud. Of sitting by the river in a little alcove formed by rocks, scribbling in my little notebook and then lying back and quietly humming...

Every single day, the AC in my office is cranked up as high as possible. Leaving us poor hapless souls to shiver and freeze our day through work, and go home resembling a popsicle. But today, when I come appropriately attired in a snug, full sleeve shirt, is the day, they decide they need to cut power and have the entire office run on the generator. Which basically means no AC and lots of sweat. What's a girl to do?

I came across this in a Danielle Steele book. Who said you can't get anything good out of those books? One of my favourite poems and one I read virtually every time I get the urge to travel. Wander, wander, wandering meandering, the urge to roam, to dance, to fly, to be, the search for free, the need to see to go to find to search to do, my thirsts so easily quenched so close to home and yours so grand, so elegant, so marvelous, climbing mountaintops and elephants and tiger hunts and dancing bears and far off stars and trips to mars and all of it so wild, so vast, so free, as you go wander, wander, wandering, and then the best part of all when, satisfied, complete, and happy now, you wander slowly home to me.

I've been so excited to put up as many posts as I can on my new template that I'm doing this tag right now instead of procrastinating on it like I'm usually prone to do. Also, this is the first time she's tagged me and I really didn't want to scare her away. Anyway, Just call me A tagged me for this one. It seems fun and I love the way the person who tagged her did it, but I unfortunately am not that creative. So I'm going to just do it my normal, staid way. And A, I entirely empathize with how hard it was to think of something to go with each number. 1 is a number I find it impossible to stop at while eating chocolate. 2 in the afternoon is when I'm at my most sleepy at work 3 is for the years I spent in Wilsons. The most enriching, beautiful, hard years of my life. 4 is the day and the month in which I was born. (Sorry, I had to steal this) 5 in the evening is when I look out of the window and wish I had a boring 9 to 5 job so I could either be on my way ...

I don't know if you've noticed, but I have a new blog template and I for one, am chuffed about it. I keep coming back to check it out and marvel at how cool and professional my blog seems now. As opposed to my DIY template, that looked like a five year old had something to do it with. Hopefully, it shall inspire me to post more too. On the other hand though, I lost a lot of wonderful widgets. The clustermaps showing me where people were visiting from. My stat counter. And most importantly of all, those little numbers that showed me how many people had visited my blog in a year and a half of its existence. And to think I was almost up to 10,000. Out of which around 9,999 would have been obsessively checking. Anyhoo, I shall be up and running full steam again soon. As far as the speaker in the header goes, I seem to find myself doing a lot less whispering these days and a lot more yelling, shouting, screaming and generally being the loudest person wherever I go. And now that I me...

Have you ever fallen in love with a character from a book? I have. More times than I can count. And right now, I am absolutely in love with the character of Nikhil Khoda from The Zoya Factor. It's a chick-lit book. So unless your fond of the genre, I'd suggest you stay away though. It is fun though with tons of contemporary references and easily relatable characters. Also, figuring out whom the characters are based on just adds to it. Read it for sure.